


The Knight and the Scarf

by ghostgirl19



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrien is the appointed knight, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Based on a Breath of the Wild plot point, F/M, Luka is the court trouvère, Marinette is the Princess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-20
Updated: 2018-11-28
Packaged: 2019-05-26 03:57:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 30,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14992241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostgirl19/pseuds/ghostgirl19
Summary: The Princess is knitting a scarf and her appointed knight is dying with curiosity over who the recipient is...





	1. Chapter 1

“You know, sometimes I really do think you’re a cat.”

The knight in question grinned, his hold on the baby blue ball of yarn not relinquishing. “Oh? And why is that, Princess?”

Marinette smiled, and for a rare moment since she started knitting, she lifted her head to look at him. “Because you have somehow found amusement in a ball of yarn. God forbid an assassin bursts in the room; I would be doomed because of your cat-like antics.”

Sir Adrien placed a hand against his chest, his mouth open in a playfully hurt sort of way. “Why, Your Highness, I am appalled! I am the most accomplished swordsman in the kingdom. You are in no safer hands than mine. Do you really think I would let a lowly distraction such as yarn hinder me from protecting you?”

“Yes,” she decided without pause. Adrien laughed, and it wasn’t long after that Marinette joined in.

The Princess loved these kinds of days. To just spend time with her appointed knight without the need for keeping up royal appearances. Here, in her private sitting room, she had the freedom to express herself. Most of the time they would simply converse with each other about any sort of topic under the sun, but some days she would choose to work on a sewing project and he would sit idly by. Today was one of those days.

During those times, Adrien would keep his speaking to a minimum. The Princess politely informed him once that talking was a distraction to her, so he obliged her wishes and stayed mostly silent. Sometimes he would stare out the window or read a book. Today, he chose to fiddle around with a ball of yarn, one out of the many in her basket.

“You never did tell me what you’re making,” he mused aloud, tilting his head as he regarded the lump of blue cloth lying in her lap.

“It’s a scarf,” she informed lightly, not delving into any more of an explanation. Her fingers slowly made the needles work, care and devotion clearly placed into each stitch. The scarf has been taking several days to make and it was obvious the Princess strived for nothing but perfection in the end.

“A scarf?” he questioned, leading her to nod while she worked, not believing it necessary to look up. “Who’s it for?”

“No one of consequence,” she replied airily, smiling a little as she moved onto the next stitch.

Adrien raised an eyebrow. Marinette didn’t often keep secrets from him, especially for so little a reason as the recipient of a gift. ‘No one of consequence’, huh?

“Well, I seem to remember that you asked me what color you should use for your next project. Shouldn’t I know who will appreciate my impeccable taste?”

Marinette’s lips lifted in a grin, yet she still refused to look up. “You’ll know once I give this to the person I have in mind.”

Adrien frowned, but let the matter drop. At least, it seemed so on the outside. Mentally, he was going through a list of all the friends he knew the Princess had, all of which could be possible candidates for receiving a warm, likely to be perfectly soft, hand-knitted scarf.

It could be for Lady Alya, the Princess’s closest and most cherished friend. Since he had been assigned as Marinette’s knight, he had met the young woman a handful of times. She was nice, but more lively and outspoken compared to Marinette’s usual calm and quiet demeanor. Not that those traits were bad ones, they just made for a nice balance to his Princess.

She was getting married soon, to the Moroccan prince Nino. He only met the man once, when Marinette’s parents invited him and Lady Alya to the castle for a celebratory dinner for their engagement. He seemed nice enough. He made a point to include Adrien for a few conversations, for which the knight was both surprised and humbled by.

Nino and Marinette got along well, and by the end of the evening she extended her congratulations to the couple and gave them her blessing.

Still, Marinette hadn’t known Nino for all that long, and it wasn’t as if they became instant best friends. Acquaintances, accompanied with fondness due their relations to Alya? Yes. But would she spend days knitting a scarf for him? Likely not.

So an engagement present for Alya, then? If so, then why would she say the recipient is ‘no one of consequence’ and refuse to divulge her identity? No, if it was for Alya, Marinette would’ve enthusiastically told him so.

Marinette was casual friends with a few other men and women from the noble and royal ranks, yet none were any Adrien could think of as a definite receiver of such a lovely gift. Maybe it wasn’t for a friend, then?

His heart nearly stopped, the blood in his veins seeming to instantly freeze.

Maybe it was for an admirer? A lover?

As far as he knew, Marinette was only fond of one other man before he came in: Luka, the court trouvère. His music never failed to resonate with the Princess; she often had him with her for hours, playing song after song for her on his cittern.

That was when he first saw Marinette up close. Sure, he had seen her in passing, but up until that point he was never able to even determine what color her eyes were (the most enchanting shade of blue, if you were wondering). He had reported to his post, for he was to be relatively by her side for most of the day and walked into her private sitting room. He was greeted with the sight of Luka sitting on one of the couches, playing a song and Marinette, her eyes closed and holding a hand to her heart as she listened.

She wasn’t pleased at his interruption, to say the least. Luka was her most favored musician, and for some time there had been rumors that there was even a secret passionate affair between the two of them. Adrien would not have been surprised if the rumors proved true; he saw the blushes on her cheeks and the furtive glances stolen between them.

Before long, after Marinette got over her initial dislike of Adrien (she didn’t like having an appointed knight following her everywhere), and after they became more companionable with the other, the rumors slowly began to cease and soon enough stopped completely.

It was most likely so since Marinette gradually began to send for Luka less and less. At least, as far as he knew. What if their affair (if there was one) never stopped, and he was only their unsuspecting cover? What if Luka came to Marinette’s balcony each night, holding a bouquet of roses in one hand while holding his cittern in the other? What if he then played and sang of her beauty, and then what if they shared passionate kisses and declared their love for each other and-

“You’ve been quiet for some time.” Marinette’s voice brought him out of the horrible fantasy, and he turned with wide eyes and quickened breath to see her still knitting and a teasing smile on her lips. “Dare I believe that you’ve given up on your quest for an answer?”

“Is it for a lover?” he blurted, and it wasn’t until she snapped her head up to look at him with bewildered heavenly blue eyes that he realized just what he asked. He had directly accused the Princess of France of taking part in a scandalous affair and was making a gift for him right in front of him. Not only was it incredibly rude, but it could be considered treason if the question was asked without merit.

Meanwhile, the Princess’s cheeks had colored to a bright red rivalling that of roses. At once she ducked her head down, and slowly but surely the blush died down.

“No,” she murmured at last. This time when she smiled, it was in bitter self-deprecation. “I couldn’t be so lucky. He doesn’t think of me like that.”

It felt like she ripped his heart out his chest and tore it to pieces. She may not have a lover, but she still admired _someone_. Someone unknowingly (or knowingly, he had no idea) held her heart in the palm of their hands. It was probably a prince or some other noble.

Adrien frowned, choosing to look away in favor of staring at the floor. He reminded himself that he had no right to be heartbroken or disappointed. He was only her appointed knight with no other titles to speak of. In what way could he ever be worthy of her love?

Oh well, he thought with a barely-audible sigh. At least he wasn’t facing a hangman’s noose for asking his question in the first place.

Marinette stood, and for a panic-stricken moment Adrien thought she really was going to have him arrested for his question. But when she observed him with a teasing grin and sparkling eyes, he relaxed.

“I think I need a break. Would you care to indulge me with a song, Sir Knight?” she asked, already stepping past him in the direction of the harpsichord. She turned back and sent another coy smile his way, as if she knew that he could never say no to her. Knowing how clever she was, she likely did.

Adrien stood and bowed. “If my Princess so wishes,” he replied, picking his head up and smirking.

Marinette’s grin widened as she sat down on the bench. Adrien readily joined her and moved his hands into position over the keys, while Marinette watched with rapt attention. Hearing him play was pleasing enough but seeing him perform was an excitement all in itself.

He took one last, deep breath and began to play. It wasn’t a fast song or dramatic, yet it still sounded upbeat. She thought it was a good song to play on a sunny day like today.

She shifted her eyes away from his hands to his features. His focus was pinned to the keys since there was no sheet music available. A serene smile curved the corners of his mouth up as he performed the melody by memory alone, which Marinette thought was rather impressive on his end, especially since he didn’t miss a single note.

Meanwhile she couldn’t play any song without sheet music provided. Even then, she clumsily hit other keys that ended up producing sour tones for an otherwise elegant song. In a sense she both envied and admired Adrien’s prowess with the harpsichord. However, her admiration far outweighed the envy.

A knock sounded at the door, instantly causing Adrien to tense and stop. Marinette’s eyes snapped open, for they had slowly closed during the song. She couldn’t help the scowl that pursed her lips, internally cursing whoever had interrupted. Adrien playing the harpsichord didn’t happen all that often; her schedule either wouldn’t allow it or they weren’t alone at the right moment. Whoever was at the door better have a good excuse for being there.

“Princess?” A muffled voice called out, one that Adrien recognized all too well. His jaw tightened while Marinette’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. She didn’t remember sending for Luka today.

“I’ll get it,” Adrien announced, already standing. Marinette refused and urged him to sit down again. In her mind since Luka had asked for her, she should be the one to answer the door. Her knight reluctantly relented and slowly sank back to the bench.

In a few strides Marinette had crossed the room and opened the door to reveal a charmingly-smiling Luka. Adrien was pleased to see that while he carried his cittern in one hand, the other was devoid of any roses.

“Luka? Did I send for you today?” Marinette asked, prompting Adrien to raise an eyebrow. If she didn’t request his presence, then what was he doing here?

“No, that’s actually the reason why I’m here,” he answered quietly. He glanced down at his cittern shyly, before looking back up at the Princess beneath his eyelashes.

Marinette remembered that there was once a time when her heartbeat would quicken whenever he gave her such a look. Now, there was nothing. A bit of nostalgia for the times before perhaps, but no romantic affection of any sort now. For some reason, she felt a bit guilty for it.

“You haven’t sent for me in a while, and I thought that you’d like a song today.”

With his free hand he gently took the Princess’s own and placed a kiss on her knuckles. His eyes darted past her, a smug gleam lighting them as a smirk curled his lips.

Having her hand kissed wasn’t unusual, it was one of the many ways of decorum that had to be followed. But what used to send a shiver up her spine, now caused a slight uncomfortable churn in her stomach. Strangely, she was worried about Adrien seeing it. Although she didn’t understand why, since he had seen plenty of nobles kiss her hand before.

Marinette turned to look back at her knight, who still sat at the harpsichord. His mouth was set in a thin line, his eyes were slightly narrowed and if she had to guess he probably had his fists clenched. His glare was trained on Luka, until she cleared her throat. His expression shifted from mild irritation to surprise while she felt her fingers being let go from the trouvère.

She turned to Luka, who seemed to preen under her gaze. He was likely expecting her approval to his indirect question.

She felt bad for what she was about to say.

“I apologize that you came all this way, but I’m afraid I have no need of your services at the present. But I do appreciate the thought and gesture. Thank you, Luka.”

Luka blinked, shocked by her answer. How could he not be; it was the first time she had ever refused his offer of a song. Against his better judgment he looked toward the knight, who was trying his hardest to conceal a grin but was failing at it quite miserably.

He returned his attention back to Marinette and bowed, acting as if his ego didn’t suffer a crushing blow. Maybe if he acted like it didn’t affect him he could walk away with his dignity intact.

“I understand, Princess. Please know that if you ever have need for a song you need only send for me. Good day, Your Highness.”

As Luka walked down the castle corridor, his ears picked up on the faint melody of the harpsichord starting again. How could a knight who only knew violence play such a fine instrument? What made the Princess suddenly favor _him_? He was a simple knight, not a prince or a man with any title for that matter.

Meanwhile, Marinette had her gaze fixed on Adrien’s fingers as they practically flew over the keys, creating a melody that struck her with a sense of power and the need to act on something, anything at all.

“What is this one called?” she asked, curious for the name of the song that evoked these feelings.

Adrien paused and peered down at her with a grin that bordered on devilish. “It is called ‘Victory’, my Princess. Shall I continue?”

An odd choice of song, yet she nodded nonetheless.

“Yes, please.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a few more ideas for this fic ;)

“But I don’t understand. If you hate her so much, then why are you inviting her here for tea? And allowing her to have her portrait painted by your lotus pond?”

“Adrien,” Marinette lightly chided, shooting him a grin as she walked. “Haven’t you ever heard that ‘hate’ is a strong word?”

Her knight rolled his eyes. He was probably the only person allowed in the castle to do that aside from her parents.

“Okay. If you _extremely dislike_ her, then why is she here?”

Marinette slowed to a stop, sighing in resignation. “I’ve heard rumors that she’s recently begun to change her attitude. By allowing to have her portrait painted here and having tea with her, it will allow me to see for myself if the rumors are true.”

Adrien raised an eyebrow. “And if they’re not?”

She shrugged. “Then I’ll have you throw her out into the mud.”

Her serious façade was broken at the sight of her appointed knight gaping like a fish. She started to laugh, prompting Adrien to close his mouth and scrunch his nose in indignation.

“Ha-ha, very funny,” he said in a tone that indicated the exact opposite. “I was honestly starting to wonder if someone from another House could have me arrested,” he continued, eliciting another bout of giggles from the Princess.

As much as she would love to stay in the hallway and tease her knight, Marinette knew she had other priorities to attend to. The main one now being to see Lady Chloé Bourgeois in the sitting room. And so, she resumed her walk, with Adrien dutifully catching up to her side not a moment after.

“Besides,” Marinette added, prompting Adrien to turn his head in curiosity.

How she had almost forgotten _this_ little tidbit, she had no idea. Her lips curled into a playfully knowing smile.

“Don’t you wish to see your childhood friend again?”

Adrien’s eyes widened. He didn’t think that the Princess knew about his childhood at all, let alone who he was friends with during that time. Since his father was a widely-renowned tailor, creating and sewing clothing for Lords and Ladies and Kings and Queens alike, all eyes had been on him. No one really took notice of the shy, blond little boy that always clung to his mother’s hand.

He met Chloé when he was around six years old. His mother had been away, tending to her own mother who had caught a nasty stomach bug. However, that didn’t deter the Lady Bourgeois, who still needed her extravagant gowns that she ordered every week. Gabriel, not having any desire on denying his most frequent and expensive customer, had no choice but to bring his son along for the appointment.

Upon arriving at the impressive estate, he was separated from his father and guided into a private sitting room. There, he met a girl who resembled his age. She was wearing a large, yellow dress, and her hair was done up in curls. She blinked icy blue eyes at him, astonished that someone else like her was in the room.

For a while, the two only stared at each other, bewildered and confused of what to do. Their fathers (and in her case, her mother too) declared most of the other children around ‘unfit’ to play with them. So, what made the one before them now any different?

They came to their senses soon enough. They finally had the chance to make a real friend and they weren’t going to waste it.

_“Hi, I’m Adrien!”_

_“Chloé. Your papa makes my maman’s pretty dresses, right?”_

The rest was history. Before he left to train to become a knight, he noticed her attitude slowly change to the mindset of a spoiled, vain woman, but he never thought it was all that bad. She was still bearable to be around. Well, at least he thought so. Marinette thought much differently, he had come to learn over his time as her appointed knight.

He knew Marinette detested Chloé, and from what she told him, it was with fairly good reason. He wondered what could possibly trigger a change in her ways, enough to even gather her worst enemy’s attention.

Adrien cleared his throat, recalling Marinette’s question.

“We may have been friends, but my loyalty lies wholly with you, Princess.”

Marinette’s cheeks flushed. He spoke the words with such conviction and finality… it was enough to cause her to falter in her steps. She inwardly cursed her reaction; how was it that whenever she was around him, she managed to make a fool of herself in one way or another?

The worst incident was when she revealed to him her true feelings regarding the recipient of the scarf she had hand-knitted. She meant to present it to him as a gift for the upcoming winter, just a simple gift for her friend and now she could never give it to him without making a love confession of sorts in the process.

Why, oh why, did she say ‘he doesn’t think of me like that’ when Adrien had asked if it was for a lover? Why didn’t she simply deny it and move on? Now the finished scarf sat in a drawer in her bedchamber, never to be opened again. Every time she tried, with a solution in mind of giving it to Adrien without embarrassing herself, she wound up dismissing it and slamming the drawer shut. And then she was back to square one.

Marinette sighed and managed to give Adrien a small grin over her shoulder. She had a feeling it didn’t reach her eyes, but he didn’t comment on it.

“I’m happy to hear that, Sir Knight. Now, we had better get to Lady Chloé. Improved attitude or not, it’s not so easy to fix patience.”

* * *

As soon as Marinette opened the door to the sitting room, she found herself nearly assaulted by a barrage of yellow silk and blonde curls. Her startled yelp alerted Adrien, who quickly moved to unsheathe his sword but when he noticed who the ‘attacker’ was, he halted the action and let his hand fall limp. He struggled not to laugh when he saw Marinette not-so gently try to remove Chloé’s arms from around her neck.

“Marinette!” Chloé cooed, finally stepping back and allowing the Princess to take in much needed air. “It’s so lovely to see you again!”

“It-it’s a pleasure to see you as well,” Marinette said. She was still trying to get over her shock at what she could only term as ‘bizarre’. Lady Chloé had never greeted her with such… _enthusiasm_ before.

Chloé’s gaze shifted to behind the Princess. If it was at all possible, her eyes seemed to light up even more. As Chloé pounced on her new target, Marinette took the opportunity to slip inside the room to one of the couches.

“Adrien!” Chloé squealed in delight. Much like with Marinette, she wrapped her arms around Adrien’s neck and pressed herself closer to him.

Marinette covered her mouth with her fingers to muffle her giggling. Meanwhile, her poor knight looked so confused and helpless, his eyes nervously darting around, finally landing on her own, pleading for a way out…

Taking pity on him, she loudly cleared her throat. This was enough for Chloé to pause and back off, albeit slightly. She removed her hands from him at the least.

“It’s been ages since I’ve last seen you! Ever since you left to become a knight…speaking of, I see you have become the Princess’s own. I always thought it was a stupid decision to be a knight in the first place, when you could’ve just inherited your father’s business, but I’m proud of you, anyway!”

Adrien wasn’t exactly sure how to take that. But he had never seen her so happy and cheerful before, so he resolved to just go along with it.

“Thank you? It-It’s nice to see you after all this time as well, Lady Chloé.”

“Since when were you one for formalities?” she teased, then reached up to playfully flick his nose. “What has that knight training done to you?”

Adrien couldn’t help but glance down and wrinkle his nose, a bit annoyed by her gesture. Nonetheless, he answered as though nothing was wrong.

“It taught me to speak to someone with a title by calling them that title. Unless I’m given a direct order not to, I won’t be informal with anyone.”

Chloé hummed, her eyes roving over the decorated uniform he wore. Outfits like his were reserved for only the best and most trusted knights and were generally worn by men who have served the King for many years. Adrien was an oddity; he had gained the highest title possible for a knight for someone so young and inexperienced. He had only been in the knighthood for six months before the King designated him as the Princess’s appointed knight, to go wherever she goes and protect her with his life throughout the way.

No one dared to say it, but the assassination attempt on Princess Marinette might have been the greatest thing to ever happen for Adrien. If it never happened, he likely would’ve remained a common knight not even worthy to look the Princess in the eyes.

Marinette might be inclined to confess her feelings about the topic, but only with one person and in vastly different circumstances.

“Well, I’m glad your training wasn’t a total waste,” Chloé finally remarked before smiling widely. “There is someone I want you to meet. He’s the person who’s going to paint me by the Princess’s lotus pond. His art is _divine_!”

With that, she took his hand and ignoring his startled look, tugged him over to the small sitting area. Marinette was already seated, gazing on in concern for her companion sitting across from her. He avoided all eye contact, half of his face partially hidden by his long, red hair. His head was bent down, hands clasped on his lap, the very picture of someone intimidated by royalty.

Marinette thought it was best to wait for Chloé to make the introductions. Maybe she would be able to coax him out of his shell.

“Adrien, Princess, I would like you to meet Nathanael. He’s a brilliant painter, and the only one who can faithfully portray my beauty in art. Come now, Nathanael, say hello!”

The young man lifted his head. His mouth quirked up in a little, tentative smile. He bowed his head once in Marinette’s direction.

“It is an honor to meet you, Your Highness,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Marinette smiled brightly in the hope of encouraging him to open up more. She wanted to put him at ease and assure him that there was no reason for him to be shy in her presence.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Nathanael. So, you’re a ‘brilliant painter’, hmm?” She teasingly grinned. “How did the Bourgeois discover you?”

“Oh, Daddy heard about him from one of his friends,” Chloé cut in, waving a hand in the air in dismissal. She walked to the couch and sat next to Nathanael, whose cheeks bloomed a rosy red as soon as she sat down.

He pointedly stayed silent and stubbornly kept his gaze trained on the Princess, determined not to look Chloé in the eye as she delved into the story of how she acquired him to paint her portraits. Adrien watched it all with a neutral look, but his eyes told a different story. Suddenly he had an urge to tease his childhood friend about her artist’s obvious feelings towards her. Additionally, were those feelings reciprocated?

Either way, Chloé may have been spoiled since the day she was born, but he highly doubted that her father would allow _that_ union to happen. It seemed that he and Nathanael were in the same boat.

Adrien shook the thought off as quickly as it had come. No, they weren’t in the same boat. In fact, there wasn’t even a boat to begin with. He had no idea if Chloé liked Nathanael in that way. Besides, he knew for a fact that Marinette didn’t love him.

He wondered which lucky bastard got that scarf…

“Princess,” Chloé spoke, startling Adrien back to the present. Upon realizing that his bitter thoughts left him scowling, he pressed his lips into a tight line. Thankfully, no one seemed to notice his briefly darkened mood.

“Wouldn’t it be nice for us to talk? Just us girls?” Chloé continued sweetly, prompting Marinette to blink in surprise.

Lady Chloé wanted to have girl talk with her? She was kidding, right?

Apparently, she wasn’t, judging by how she kept gazing expectantly at Marinette. Did Chloé realize how strange her request sounded? Did she forget all the gossip she spoke of behind Marinette’s back? Of all the angry glares shared between them? The laughter at Marinette’s expense whenever she momentary lost her ‘royal grace’ and tripped?

No, Chloé wouldn’t forget that. She’d never forget any of those things. Maybe this was her attempt at asking for a chance to apologize? She was supposedly kinder now, and so far, Marinette hadn’t seen her be deliberately mean this afternoon.

“That would be nice, Lady Chloé,” she said, her mouth turning up in a small smile. Hopefully her assumption wasn’t wrong. “After all, it’s been awhile since we last saw each other. I’m sure there’s plenty to catch up on from both our ends.”

Chloé matched her expression, only hers took on a more thankful light.

“Wonderful. Nathanael, please wait outside for us to finish. Then we can get my painting started.”

Nathanael stood and nodded his head once for Chloé.

“As you wish, my lady,” he replied respectfully, his voice growing a little stronger as soon as he addressed her. Perhaps knowing he was about to leave the room was giving him a little courage.

He then turned and fully bowed for Marinette.

“Thank you for having me, Your Highness. It was truly an honor.”

Marinette smiled, flattered by his respect. Despite being normally treated this way by everyone who wasn’t in her immediate circle, she felt his reverence was more genuine compared to them. While they greeted her like it was a routine, he spoke as if he really was honored to talk with and sit by her.

“Thank you, Nathanael. It was a pleasure to have you.”

With that, he picked himself up and left the room, quietly closing the door behind him.

When no other movement was detected, Chloé glanced up at Adrien, who had yet to make a single step towards the door. Feeling her curious eyes, he stared resolutely ahead.

“Um, Princess?” Chloé said, a bit awkwardly. She would otherwise love to have Adrien in the room, but she wanted this talk to be for Marinette’s ears only. She would’ve asked him to leave herself, but now the circumstances were different. While they may have been childhood friends, he served Marinette now. Therefore, she was the only one who could dismiss him.

Getting the hint, Marinette turned around to look at her stubborn knight. He glanced down to see her giving him a cheeky smirk.

“I wasn’t aware you held an interest for listening to private conversations, Sir Knight.”

Adrien cleared his throat. “I don’t, Your Highness. But I was ordered to guard you at all times.”

Marinette rolled her eyes.

“There’s no danger here; we’re in the middle of the castle and it’s broad daylight out. You can leave the room.”

He stiffened, unsure.

She sighed. “Really, Adrien, there’s no reason to stay here. I’ll be fine. If you’re so worried, you may stand outside the door.”

He gave a long, slow look around the room, searching for anything that could be considered suspicious. There weren’t many places to hide, except the curtains. But none of these curtains had grown feet during the time they were in there, so he felt it was safe to conclude that no one was hiding there.

He felt a bit foolish, but he checked outside the windows anyway. If anyone tried to scale the castle wall to get to this room, it would be incredibly difficult, given the lack of something stable to use. They would likely not get very far either without night’s cloak to hide them.

Nevertheless, he remained reluctant to leave. The King and Queen instructed him to never leave their daughter alone ever since the assassination attempt. Although, she wouldn’t exactly be alone in this case. Lady Chloé was with her. And rest assured that if someone tried to take the Princess’s life, Chloé’s screams would be heard throughout the whole castle.

His ears faintly rung at the memory of how loud she could be. How he didn’t go deaf when they were children was beyond him.

Besides, Marinette deserved to have a conversation without him there to listen.

Adrien bowed before he could change his mind.

“I’ll be right outside the door,” he assured.

Marinette smiled, grateful for his consideration. “Thank you, Adrien. If something happens I’ll call for you.”

He nodded, then left the room before he could stop himself. She would be fine. The likelihood of something happening was extremely low. It wasn’t healthy to be paranoid all the time.

He noticed Nathanael standing on the other side of the hallway inspecting a decorative vase. His teal eyes were narrowed, his fingers around his chin in thought. Adrien didn’t see what was so interesting about it, it was just a pretty blue vase with purple swirls on it. Then again, he didn’t exactly have an eye for art, as his father had told him countless times.

“Hey.”

Nathanael jumped, clearly not having heard Adrien walk out of the room. He hurriedly backed away from the vase and shoved his arms behind his back, his teeth worrying his lower lip as he stared at the knight in fear.

Adrien chuckled. “Go ahead, look at it all you want. I think as long as you don’t touch it you’ll be fine.”

The artist visibly relaxed. He cast another glance at the vase in question but didn’t study it as he did earlier. He watched as Adrien walked to stand beside him, giving him a few meters of space as was socially acceptable.

Adrien turned and flashed him a kind smile.

“We didn’t get a chance to properly introduce ourselves. I’m Adrien.”

He stretched out his hand, smiling wider when Nathanael returned the expression and took it, giving it a few shakes.

“I’m Nathanael. So, I guess we wait here until they’re finished talking?”

“Pretty much,” he replied, leaning against the wall. It had been awhile since he had to stand that straight for so long, and his back was making him pay for it. He’d become too relaxed since leaving his training.

“Or unless an assassin comes, in which case I’d have to go back in,” he added. The casual way he mentioned that had Nathanael’s eyes widen. Was that a common thing to talk about here?

“Err-yes, of course.”

For awhile neither of them spoke. The hallway was completely silent, save for the occasional uncomfortable shuffle from either of them. Adrien couldn’t even hear anything that was being said inside the sitting room.

At least they weren’t yelling. That’s always a plus.

“So, are you Lady Chloé’s exclusive painter?” Adrien asked, in part to break the awkward silence and partly because he was curious.

Nathanael shrugged. “I think so. I’ve already painted a few portraits of her.” He grinned and scoffed, suddenly amused. “Her parents only wanted one for each of them. But every time I finish a painting for her, thinking it’ll be the last, she always has a new request for me. I’ve never had anyone ask for so many paintings of themselves.”

Adrien blinked. “How many did she ask for?”

His answer was nonchalant, prompting Adrien to think that he must’ve gave this answer a hundred times. “About twenty, and that’s not counting the landscape ones.”

Nathanael smirked when Adrien’s eyes bulged.

And no matter how many times he got that question, the reaction of his answer would never not be funny.

“Twenty?!” Adrien repeated, stunned. “I don’t remember her liking art that much, even when it’s of herself.”

Nathanael shrugged again. “It pays good. I’ll do a thousand more paintings if it gets me the money and if I get to see-”

He snapped his mouth shut, cheeks flushing yet again. Adrien lost count of how many times this man has blushed in the last half hour.

He grinned but didn’t comment on Nathanael’s unfinished sentence. That would come later.

“So, I heard Chloé has been nicer lately,” Adrien said offhandedly. He wanted to give the artist a false sense of security before he decided to go in for the kill. Was it cruel? Perhaps. But it was fun, too.

Nathanael took the bait, blush fading as he cocked his head to the side, confused by the change in topic. He was sure the knight would’ve picked up on his slip-up and called attention to it.

“Well,” he started reluctantly. He wanted to be honest but not badmouth Chloé at the same time. “She’s improved since the time I first painted her.”

Yes, that was honest, and not particularly damaging either. It was a safe answer.

Adrien slowly grinned, causing Nathanael to gulp and wonder if he did say the right thing after all.

“Really? Do you think there’s any reason for that?” he asked. His grin stretched wider if it were possible. “That’s quite a coincidence.”

“Y-” Nathanael started, but couldn’t finish. He stared owlishly at Adrien, who just kept up that infuriatingly knowing smirk. The artist struggled to find words, any at all, for what he thought was a crazy assumption. Because it was crazy, absolutely insane!

“You’re not saying she got nicer because of me, right?” he finally asked in disbelief. His eyebrows furrowed, eyes narrowing in frustration and he shook his head. “You know that would never happen. I’m just a painter; I’m nobody important enough to cause a high-class lady like her to change.”

“Maybe she thinks you’re important enough,” Adrien argued, his grin beginning to relax. He only meant to harmlessly tease him, not annoy him. “Besides, why else do you think she commissioned more than twenty paintings from you? I think she likes you.”

“And so what if she does?” Nathanael snapped, turning to glare at Adrien. “You know nothing can happen. Her parents would never approve. Besides,” he continued, his voice taking a mocking tone, “I think she _doesn’t_ like me. She only likes the work I do, not the person.”

“That’s not true. Didn’t you hear all those compliments about you?”

“Oh yes,” Nathanael said, rolling his eyes. “My art is ‘divine’. I’m a ‘brilliant painter’. The only one who could faithfully portray her beauty in art. Which of those compliments was about my person?”

Adrien looked away in shame. He never felt like more of an ass until this moment.

“Just drop it,” Nathanael demanded, glaring to the side. “You have no idea what this feels like.”

Adrien couldn’t help but scoff, the shame melting away and bitterness taking root in his words.

“I wish I didn’t know.”

Nathanael slowly turned to see the knight sardonically smiling. He waited for him to say something, anything to explain. How could he know what Nathanael felt like?

“Yeah right, you?” he sarcastically asked, dismissing the brief pity he felt for Adrien. He knew he was lying. “You have the highest rank for a knight. How are you anything like me? You can have any woman you want.”

“Not exactly,” Adrien answered, his eyes trained on the door to the sitting room.

Nathanael only grew more frustrated with his cryptic answer. He looked between Adrien and the door, then back again, wondering why he was so intently staring at it. If Adrien heard something he already would’ve burst through the door, ready to protect the Princess with his life and-

_Oh._

Nathanael’s angry scowl softened. Adrien arched an eyebrow, that bitter grin never leaving his lips.

“Figured it out, have you?”

Nathanael could only nod. He felt his earlier pity for the knight return in full force. At least Nathanael had a chance with Chloé if he became rich off his paintings, whereas Adrien had no chance at all. He may have saved her once, but without a royal title to his name, he had no possibility of ever marrying her.

And he had the nerve to accuse Adrien of not knowing how unrequited love felt like.

“Looks like we’re more alike than I thought,” he mumbled.

Adrien nodded solemnly.

“Guess so.”

The ensuing silence was broken by the door opening. Both men flinched in surprise while Chloé stepped out, directing a smile toward her painter.

“Let’s go, the sunlight is perfect as this time of day,” she briskly ordered. Then without waiting she walked down the hallway, not bothering to wait up for Nathanael.

Prior to making a move to follow her, he glanced at Adrien a final time. They shared tentative smiles, each hoping for the others’ luck in the future. Then before Chloé could turn a corner and get Nathanael lost in the process, he took off after her.

Adrien watched the artist disappear around the corner, glad to have found a kindred spirit. Well, he wasn’t _completely_ happy about it. He felt bad about his unrequited feelings for Chloé, but they do say that misery loves company, right?

He reentered the sitting room, finding Marinette waiting on the couch for him. Since they were alone, he skipped the customary bow and opted to sit next to her.

“How was your talk?” he asked. Never once during his chat with Nathanael did he ever hear raised voices from beyond the door, so he was wondering if everything went as well as he hoped.

“It was…interesting,” she replied, smiling lightly to him. “She apologized for her treatment of me when we were children, saying that not only was it abominable, but as Princess I never deserved such behavior. She also thanked me for not executing her because of it,” she added with a giggle.

“That’s good,” he said, genuinely happy that she received closure from her childhood nemesis. “And I’ve never heard Chloé actually apologize to anyone before. You just might be the first! Aren’t you lucky?”

Marinette snorted and rolled her eyes.

“Yes, clearly I am to receive that kind of honor. But enough about me and Chloé, it _was_ a private conversation, after all.” A corner of her mouth upturned in a grin. “What about you and Nathanael? What did you two talk of?”

Adrien’s eyes glittered mischievously.

“Sorry, Princess, but I have as much right to a private conversation as you do.”

He laughed as he dodged the sofa pillow that she tried to smack him with.

* * *

It was well past supper when Marinette made one last request to her knight.

“Could you play me a song before I sleep for the night?”

It was rather late, too late for playing songs on the harpsichord. Alas, he was helpless to those big, beseeching blue eyes and so minutes later he found himself in her private sitting room, sitting at the harpsichord with the Princess listening to every note he produced.

Because she would be going to sleep after this, he opted for a softer song that could act as a lullaby. It seemed that she enjoyed it, given her serene smile.

When he finished, he leaned back and peered over at Marinette, who had thankfully not fallen asleep during the song. He didn’t think he’d be able to explain why he was carrying the Crown Princess to her bedchamber at night without it turning into a scandal.

“That was a lovely song you played,” she said, prompting him to softly smile in pride. He never liked the harpsichord lessons his father forced on him when he was younger, vowing that once he was older he would never touch the instrument again.

But when he heard that she liked it, well, he discovered a new appreciation for the instrument and mentally thanked his father every time he played and saw her smile and heard her compliments.

“I’m happy to hear so, Princess.”

“Yes. Thank you for playing that song for me, Sir Adrikins.”

“You’re wel-” he started but halted as soon as her words registered in his mind.

Marinette was now grinning widely from ear to ear, desperately trying to hold back her laughter. Adrien narrowed his eyes at her. On one hand, he was glad she said it when they were alone. On the other hand, he was mad that she found out about it in the first place.

“What did you just call me?” he asked lowly, giving her the opportunity to correct herself.

She didn’t take it.

A few giggles escaped her lips. “Adrikins! It’s your nickname, is it not?”

“Who told you about it?” he questioned, even though he had a feeling he knew exactly who told her.

“Well, during my talk with Lady Chloé this afternoon, she mentioned lots of things that happened when you were children,” Marinette said, her wide grin never faltering. “She also informed me of your nickname.”

“It’s not my nickname,” he vehemently protested, earning a few more devilish giggles from the Princess. “She was the only one who called me that. I don’t even know why or how she thought of it. Point is, it wasn’t my nickname, so don’t you start calling me that.”

“Alright, alright,” she relented, seeing how vastly unamused he was compared to herself. “May you escort me to my room, now?”

Adrien sighed in relief. Thankfully it didn’t take her long to get the message.

“Of course,” he replied, easily slipping back to his usual countenance. It was hard to stay mad at her for long. He held out his hand and helped the Princess up before they left the room.

Their walk to her bedchambers was silent, but it wasn’t a far walk. They tried to keep their footfalls as quiet as possible due to the time of night it was.

At last, they were in front of her door. Marinette opened it and stepped inside, then turned around to give to properly say good-bye until morning.

“Good night,” he bid, his eyes shining with some emotion that Marinette saw a lot of but couldn’t exactly place. Whatever it was, Marinette liked it, especially when it was combined with that little smile she was so fond of.

“Good night,” she returned. She wondered if he saw any similar emotions in her own eyes and expression.

He bowed lowly and turned around, beginning the walk to his own room down the hallway.

Until he heard her last parting words.

“Good night…Sir Adrikins!”

He spun around and rushed at the door, in turn causing Marinette to squeal and slam it shut before he could reach her.

Despite his embarrassment, he found himself smirking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Adrikins part was inspired by a Full House episode, when Uncle Jesse's real name is revealed ;)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the comments, guys! I'm glad you're liking the story so far :)

Adrien was positive that he was the only one in the kingdom who would be happy to be called into work on his day off.

For one day out of the week, Adrien could do whatever he wished. His duty of guarding the Princess went to another knight while he was left to his own devices. Usually he used these days to sleep in until noon and then get some extra training done. Sir Kim was always up for a sparring match and made for good practice.

However, on some of these days, the Princess requested his presence anyway. She never tasked him with any strenuous duties, in fact, most of the time she summoned him just to keep her company.

He didn’t mind. Yes, he had friends in the castle he could spend his time with, but he would always choose Marinette over them.

Was he torturing himself, spending all this extra time with her even when he knew that nothing would ever happen between them?

If so, it was the best kind of torture to endure.

As Adrien walked up the red-carpeted staircase that would lead to Marinette’s room, he heard a flurry of pounding footsteps behind him. Concerned, he turned his head in time to see the court trouvère barreling toward him, a hard look on his face as he pushed past him.

“Luka?!” he yelped, bewildered. Luka was usually so calm, and Adrien had never seen him actually run before. He always walked the hallways with a sense of grace, pride, and decorum. Now he was rushing off as if hell were on his heels.

At the mention of his name, Luka halted in his tracks and quickly turned around to face the knight. Adrien was confused as to why the musician was giving him a challenging smirk.

“I heard the Princess requested some company. I thought that I and a song would suffice,” he explained before taking off again.

Adrien processed his words for a total of two seconds before he found himself taking off after him, frustration urging him to move faster.

 ** _She summoned me, not you!_** He wanted to yell but knew that wasn’t the type of conduct a knight should display while in the castle and (now) on the job. He shouldn’t even be running, not unless the Princess was in danger.

Although, in this case Adrien could argue that she was. For all he knew, Luka was planning to ambush Marinette in her room and smash her head in with his cittern.

…Okay, that was probably unlikely, but it was still a possibility!

Unfortunately, seeing some of the castle staff was unavoidable. If they were angry about his sprinting in the hallways, almost crashing into them and causing them to quickly move out of the way, he could sort it out later. For now, he had an infuriating trouvère to catch.

 Eventually, he caught up with him, right as Luka raised his hand to Marinette’s room to knock.

“No, you don’t!” he growled, just as he heard Marinette’s voice grant Luka entrance.

Maybe he should’ve grabbed Luka’s tunic and yanked him back so that he could come in the room first. Maybe he should’ve shouted for Marinette not to open the door until he was in front of it. Maybe he should’ve grabbed Luka’s cittern and clobbered him over the head with it to knock him out and ensure him that the trouvère wouldn’t be any more of a bother that day.

Anything would’ve been better than trying to push past him at the same time he stepped inside.

Now the two men were smushed together in the doorway, both wriggling to get free to no avail.

“What are you doing?!” Luka hissed, his elbow driving into Adrien’s side as he struggled.

Adrien grunted, not appreciating Luka’s methods of trying to break free.

“Me?! This is your fault! I’m the one she called for, not you!”

To return the favor, Adrien ‘bumped’ his shoulder against Luka’s chin, sending his head flying up. If he wasn’t trying to pretend it was an accident, Adrien would’ve laughed.

“Don’t delude yourself,” Luka harshly whispered, mindful of his voice so that the Princess wouldn’t overhear.

Meanwhile, that same princess was appearing rather astonished at seeing two grown men stuck together and bickering in her doorway. But it wasn’t long before the ridiculous display prompted a small, amused grin to lift her lips.

“She’s forced to put up with you every day,” Luka continued bitterly. “You probably just imagined the summons or something. Why would she want to spend her one free day she has away from you, _with you_?”

“Why don’t you ask her yourself?” Adrien growled whilst trying to break free again. Although he put in a good effort, he wasn’t any closer on getting out of there. Despite this, he managed a smug grin. “Oh, wait! She would have to send for you first. But that hasn’t happened for a while, hasn’t it?”

Luka scowled furiously, his cheeks coloring with a mix of anger and embarrassment. Adrien was instantly reminded of all the times the situation was reversed, when _he_ was the one getting irritated with Luka’s derogatory remarks while the musician would stand there with that infuriating, self-satisfied smirk.

_“Why don’t you be an obedient knight and stand outside the door? It’s clear she doesn’t want you here.”_

_“I don’t see why you even bother trying to talk to her. Not only are you unworthy, but she hates you. It’s a little troubling to have the Princess’s appointed knight prove to be so clueless.”_

_“So, you saved her life once? It hardly makes you qualified for the highest position possible for a knight. A man who has only been a knight for six months doesn’t deserve the honor.”_

_“When will you learn? It’s pointless. She’ll never want to speak with you. Just do your job and save yourself the future embarrassment.”_

Adrien’s grin spread wider upon recalling the subtle changes in Luka’s comments once he and the Princess had started to warm up to each other…

_“She said ‘good morning’ to you? Congratulations! You’ve graduated from silence to a customary greeting!”_

_“Wow, she didn’t tell you to stand outside today. I guess she was feeling generous this morning. Don’t let it go to your head, though.”_

_“You play the harpsichord, huh? Didn’t think a man of violence would be able to play such an instrument of finery. But don’t get cocky about it. She may not have summoned me today, but that doesn’t mean it’ll be the same tomorrow. I’m still the court trouvère and the best musician in the castle. She’ll never prefer you over me.”_

_“You’re wrong, Sir Adrien. I was taken ill, that’s why she hasn’t sent for me in a week. She was merely worried for my health and didn’t want me to exert myself. But as you can see I played fine today and will be back tomorrow. You’ll see.”_

He did see. He saw an otherwise empty room while he continued to captivate the Princess with his music.

Luka’s elbow jabbing into Adrien’s side brought him back to the present situation at hand. He frowned at the poorly disguised attempt to make it look like he was trying to get out of the doorway again.

“Listen, you,” Luka started, sore from Adrien’s comment. He knew that Adrien was right, but it still angered him to hear it spoken aloud. “You son of a-”

“Enough!” Marinette shouted, effectively silencing and freezing the men in place. She could sense the vexation between them, and suddenly them being stuck in the doorway wasn’t so funny anymore. She had to intervene before things could escalate any further.

Making sure to give both of them a stern frown, she walked up to Adrien, took his hand, then pulled as hard as she could with a soft grunt. He broke free with a startled gasp and flailed, almost falling on top of her but he managed to right himself in time. He had the decency to pull off a sheepish smile, his cheeks tinting pink while he rubbed a hand along the back of his neck.

Inside the doorway Luka rolled his shoulders, appreciating that he was finally away from the knight. Although it would’ve been nice if Marinette took his hand instead.

Marinette furrowed her eyebrows and sighed. Her hands smoothed out her dress’s skirt, something Adrien had come to recognize as an indicator of her stress during his time as her knight.

At last she shook her head and peered up at them with a teasing grin.

“I had no idea you two would be so excited to walk in the gardens. If I had known, I would have extended the invitation to you, Luka.”

Luka tilted his head. “Gardens?” he repeated, confused.

Adrien didn’t blame him, as he had no idea what Marinette summoned him for in the first place.

Marinette nodded, visibly perking up in eagerness. “Yes! Soon enough it’ll be winter, and I won’t be able to see the flowers anymore. This is one of my last chances to take an afternoon stroll and admire them before they’re gone. And now that you’re here, we must be off!”

She lifted her chin up and sauntered past them, leaving the men gaping after her in her wake, unsure of what just happened. She paused in the doorway to tilt her head and flash them a knowing smile.

“Aren’t you coming?”

Adrien and Luka nodded and walked after her. This time Adrien let Luka go first out the door before closing it behind them. He didn’t want to have to get rescued again.

…

The stroll was uneventful to say the least. Adrien trailed behind Luka and Marinette, vigilant for danger while the two obliviously talked about mundane things. If Adrien was alone with her, he would’ve been able to walk by her side and still do his duty, but with Luka in the way he was resigned to walk behind them. There was also the issue of the path not able to accommodate three people in a row.

Adrien endured it as best he could. He had to keep reminding himself that he was here to protect the Princess, not fraternize with her. Although it would’ve been nice to be able to do both at the same time.

Eventually, Marinette announced she wanted to take a brief rest. She sat down on one of the stone benches near the path, taking the time to adjust her dress’s skirt properly while Luka sat down beside her. Adrien silently took his place behind them, not able to hide his grimace of seeing the court trouvère sitting so close to her. Didn’t he have any respect for a princess’s space?!

“Would you like me to fetch my cittern, Princess?” Luka asked, a charming smile on his lips. “I could play for you here in the gardens, just like I used to. Do you remember those days?”

Adrien resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Oh, he remembered _those_ days, alright. Luka would play, and Marinette would be utterly spellbound by his music, practically hanging on to his arm with that pretty blush and begging for another song. After he befriended her, he had prayed he would never have to bear witness to something like that again, but it seemed as if his prayers went unanswered.

“That would be lovely, Luka,” she replied with gratitude. “Thank you.”

Luka stood. He glanced between the stoic knight and the Princess who was watching him expectantly. He didn’t want to leave them alone together. Then again, he did want the chance to impress and affect her with his music as he used to.

He walked at a brisk pace back the way they came. The faster he retrieved his instrument; the shorter amount of time Adrien would have with the Princess.

Once he was out of earshot, Marinette leaned back, far enough to see her knight’s puzzled, upside-down head.

“Alone at last,” she joked through a giggle. Adrien’s body slouched as he responded with an amused grin.

“Would you please come around?” she asked in good humor. “I don’t think I can keep looking at you like this. I think the blood is starting to rush to my head.”

Adrien complied, walking around the bench before seating himself where Luka was seconds earlier. Marinette brought her head forward again, although she needed a moment to refocus.

“Funny,” she mused. “I invited you here so that we may have a pleasant stroll in this beautiful weather and talk, but we haven’t really been able to do that at all.”

Adrien kept quiet. They both knew the reason behind it; they just didn’t want to say it aloud.

“But now we can,” she said, a bright smile lighting her face. “So tell me, how are you?”

“You mean since yesterday when you asked me the same question?” he asked, chuckling when he noticed her ‘annoyed’ glare. “I’ve been well. Thank you for getting us out of that door frame, by the way. I fear you would’ve had to get another knight to guard you had you not freed us.”

Marinette scoffed. “As if I would allow that to happen. You’re the only knight for me, Sir Adrien Agreste. I will never accept any other.”

He knew it wasn’t true. He knew that one day when she married a prince or a king she would receive an entirely new batch of knights ready to serve and protect, and no doubt she would have a new, personally appointed one. Still, the sentiment was nice, and did its job of making his heart pound in his chest.

“That’s good. I pity the potential man who would be your new guard,” he said airily, closing his eyes and tilting his face toward the warming sun. “Having to play the harpsichord whenever you so demand it, follow you around everywhere, conversing with you for hours, and be expected to protect you at a moment’s notice? They’d be exhausted.”

Marinette frowned, her bottom lip slightly put out as she looked at her lap in guilt.

Adrien opened an eye, peering down at her with a broad smile.

“Which is why no other man should do it but me.”

Her skin flushed prettily at that. This time when she glanced away it was due to her being too flustered to look him in the eye. A proud feeling swelled in his chest as he waited for her to compose herself and look at him again.

“I-I’m glad you think so,” she said, a bit breathless before she turned her head to look in front of herself, trying to appear unaffected by his words.

Adrien smirked. He decided to take pity on her and steer the conversation to a safer topic, asking her about the flowers that the gardens contained. It took a minute, but soon she was going over all the types of flowers, what colors they were, how they grew in the wild, and so on.

“Oh, and we have also been able to grow the rare blue rose. It’s challenging to care for, but luckily, we were able to nurture and grow the blue rose bushes to their full beauty! Do you know how hard it was for them to grow? How many times we failed? I would hate for someone to-”

At that moment, Luka returned, smiling and holding his cittern in one hand. In the other…

“I’m back, Princess! And on the way I spotted this beautiful rose. I thought it matched your eyes and so I picked it for you.”

Marinette’s eye twitched. Fists clenched at her sides, arms trembling, she slowly stood.

Adrien’s grin stretched from ear to ear.

“What is the matter with you?!” Marinette shrieked. “Do you know what you’ve just done? How rare those flowers are? What efforts it took to grow them successfully only for you to casually pick one and essentially kill it?!”

Adrien leaned back, content to watch the show play out. Unfortunately, he had to intervene once Marinette grabbed the cittern and almost clobbered Luka over the head with it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We get a bit of backstory today ;)

Adrien noticed her stare. It was kind of hard not to notice those lovely set of sky blues whenever they were pinned on him, and with such a pondering look to them. She was studying him as she would a royal text to memorize given to her by her parents, to help prepare her for her role as future Queen one day.

Hmm, Queen Marinette…it had a nice ring to it. Even if he would never be known as King Adrien, he wished her all the success and prosperity in the world for whenever her reign would begin.

He just hoped she would work on her manners in the meantime. After all, it was rude to openly stare at someone.

“Alright, what is it?” he relented, lazily turning his head to meet her inquisitive gaze head on. “What do you want to know?”

For her part she appeared mildly surprised that he had caught on to her staring, especially since he was leaning back against the sofa with his eyes closed. Honestly, she thought he had been taking a nap. Although in hindsight it was a good thing he was awake the whole time, since he was probably the one person in the castle who couldn’t afford to fall asleep on the job.

“How do you know I want to know something?” she asked with a teasing lilt, quickly getting over her initial reaction to being found out.

“Well I doubt you were staring at me to admire my jawline that could cut a diamond,” he joked, but his smile fell when Marinette’s mouth dropped in mortified outrage.

“You read my diary?!”

Adrien blinked. How had she come to _that_ conclusion?

“No. I-I heard it from some of the maids as I was on my way here. They weren’t very good at whispering…”

“Oh,” she mumbled, cheeks turning a fierce crimson. She looked off to the side; the wall seemed particularly interesting that day. “Forget I said anything, then.”

Unfortunately, Adrien held a streak of not obeying her orders, and when he looked at her with the most mischievously wicked smirk she had ever seen, she knew he wasn’t about to break that streak.

“That’s interesting to know. So, you agree with the maids, then? Or were you the one who told them that in the first place? It makes me wonder what else you’ve written…”

“Why did you become a knight?” she snapped, crossing her arms and glaring at him. “I was wondering. That’s why I was staring.”

Adrien got the hint to drop the subject. Of course, he didn’t want to. He loved being able to tease her. But he wouldn’t achieve anything by only upsetting her further. And so, he acquiesced to her unspoken command and indulged her with an answer.

“It was a noble cause,” he said simply.

Nobody said the answer had to be truthful.

“That’s it?” she asked, clearly not satisfied with his response. Sure, it was a good reason, and one that many men had when they swore to become knights. But Adrien wasn’t like them; he was exciting and capable of other things besides fighting.

She was expecting a more stimulating answer, like maybe he enjoyed the sense of danger that came with being a knight, knowing that your kingdom could go to war at any time and you would have to fight in it. Or perhaps he felt it satisfied a sense of adventure; he had never been to the castle prior to becoming a knight. Or there could’ve been the possibility that he looked up to an older knight when he was younger and vowed to become just like him and be a hero or something like that.

‘It was a noble cause’…how boring and common, not to mention completely cliché.

“Why? Were you expecting something else?” he asked, grinning.

“I was, honestly,” she replied, not bothering to hide her displeasure. “I mean, you didn’t have to be a knight at all. You already come from a respectable family and you’re set to inherit your father’s business. Even if you’re not good at sewing or designing, you could’ve hired people to do those things while you keep most of the profits. You had an easy life laid out for you and you expect me to believe you became a knight, something that you didn’t have to do at all, because you felt it was a noble cause? Come on, there has to be more to it than that!”

Adrien shrugged, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the sofa.

“I’m afraid that’s all there is to it, Princess. I’m sorry for disappointing you.”

“I’m not disappointed,” she groaned. Great, now she felt bad. “It’s just I thought you would have something more…deep to say.”

“Isn’t wanting to protect your kingdom deep enough?”

“It is,” she sighed, finally resigned to the fact that she wasn’t going to get any other answer. “I’m sorry for expecting more.”

She offered a small smile, though he couldn’t see it. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad you became a knight, no matter what your reason was.”

Adrien’s lips tightened. He wondered what she would say if he told her the truth. The real answer wasn’t deep or noble at all, merely based on a childish fantasy that he knew would never come true.

* * *

“Why do we have to go see them?” Adrien whined, reluctantly keeping his hold on his mother’s hand as she led him through the town square. He had to raise his voice for her to hear him; the central area was bustling with people even more so than usual today. More than once adults and other children alike bumped into him and it was making his resolve to leave stronger. “I want to stay home and play with Chloe.”

Emilie squeezed her six-year old’s hand tighter; it would be all too easy to lose him in the crowd. Although, Adrien would probably love that, she thought with a sigh. She had no doubt that if her son was able to, he’d sprint right home to his friend.

“Because we’re their people, Adrien. They take care of all of us and we should show our appreciation by seeing them today. Besides, this is the Princess’s public debut. Don’t you wish to see her?”

“Not really,” Adrien grumbled, pursing his lips in a scowl. “And Chloe told me that _she’s_ the Princess. She told me that we’re going to see a fake one.”

“Chloe is a Lady, Adrien,” Emilie explained, bowing her head to see him. He looked miserable as he stared up at her with the piercing green eyes he inherited from her. She gave him a patient and hopefully comforting smile. “As much as she may say it, she’s not really a princess. We’re going to be seeing the real one today: Marinette.”

Adrien glared at the ground. “I still don’t want to go.”

“Well, you have to,” his mother sighed and continued to lead him forward, deeming all attempts to get him to smile futile. At least he wasn’t throwing a tantrum, as she heard the young Lady Chloe was prone to do.

Eventually, they made it to the side of the dirt road that connected the town to the castle. To Emilie’s disappointment they were far back, thanks to the massive crowd that formed there. She could barely see above several heads. Everyone was clamoring to get closer, but not wanting to get onto the road itself.

Adrien frowned. He didn’t like crowds and didn’t like fake princesses either. Why all these people were trying to see one was beyond him.

Along with the lack of personal space that came with crowds, there was another reason why Adrien didn’t like them, something that was causing him to scrunch his nose and turn his scowl up at his mother.

“Maman, these people need a bath!”

“Adrien!” she hissed. “Mind your manners!”

He pouted but said nothing more. He knew if he did then he would get in trouble as soon as he got him. Not wanting a time out, he settled to look at a man’s legs in front of him, since that was the only thing he could see. If he strained his neck, he could see all the people’s heads that towered above him, but then that would leave him with a sore neck, and he didn’t want to get a sore neck all because of a fake princess.

The crowd suddenly roared, prompting him to lift his head anyway to try to see what the commotion was. Over the cheering he was able to hear the faint sounds of horses clopping along with the rustle and bustle of a carriage. The noises were steadily getting louder, and the louder they got, the louder the crowd became.

He felt hands under his arms, and all too soon he found himself being held in the crook of his mother’s arm.

“That’s the royal carriage,” she said, pointing to the white object being led by four white horses, all decorated with impressive golden ornaments that Adrien could barely see, but there was no mistaking the golden shine with they hit the sunlight just right.

“The King and Queen are in there, and Princess Marinette too,” she continued to explain. He wasn’t particularly interested, but he might get in trouble if he admitted his feelings aloud. Instead he let her talk, most of her words going in one ear and out the other.

“Princess Marinette is almost your age, Adrien. She’s five, but she’ll be turning six in the winter. This is her first time going out to see the kingdom, and you’re here to see it! Not many people can say that, you know.”

Not many people? There were lots of people here, what was she talking about?

As the carriage came closer, people started to lift their arms and wave. This only made seeing what was going on all the more impossible. He wouldn’t admit it, but he had grown curious to see what ‘Princess Marinette’ looked like. Even if she was a fake, he wanted to see her and find out what all the hype was about.

Besides, he could use this opportunity to describe to Chloe what her impersonator looked like.

The carriage would roll by any second now. Adrien wriggled in his mother’s arms, signaling he wanted to be put down. Instead she gripped him tighter and directed him with a warning look.

“I know you want to go play with Chloe, but it’s not often the royal family are all together in the public like this. You’ll be glad later on that you saw them.”

“But I can’t see anyway!” he protested, squirming more. “I want to stand on my own.”

Emilie sighed. Her arms were already beginning to get sore and she knew she wouldn’t be able to lift Adrien higher so he could get a better view. He may not get to see the Princess, but he could say that he was there on her first procession. That was something, right?

“Alright,” she relented, gently setting him down.

He tore off as soon as his feet touched the ground, ignoring his mother’s surprised calling of his name behind him. He ducked and weaved and pushed through multiple pairs of legs and dodged dress’s skirts in his fight to get to the front of the crowd. He was able to utilize his small height to get to the front, bursting through the middle of a man’s legs just in time to see the carriage about to go by.

The first thing he saw was a little girl poking her head out of the carriage window. She had a tiny tiara on her head of raven hair, of which was down and curled and blew with the breeze. She was smiling brightly, waving enthusiastically to the crowd who seemed to love every bit of it.

Then the carriage rolled in front of his spot. It lasted for about two seconds, but those two seconds were more than enough time for their eyes to lock together, and for her to pause in her waving.

Green met blue, and suddenly Adrien was struck with the realization that she wasn’t a fake. Somehow, he knew she was the real deal. This was Princess Marinette.

She was pretty. He knew boys his age thought girls were gross, but that was the last word he would use to describe her. Pretty was a better word. Yes, much better, he thought as he took in her glossy hair, pink lips and those stunning blue eyes that reminded him of the sky.

And then she was gone, down the road to wave to the next group of people.

Adrien was left smiling for the first time that afternoon.

“Someday, when I’m bigger, I’m going to marry her.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since the infamous assassination attempt was referenced so many times, I figured I should write it. I'm glad you guys liked the last chapter, it was fun writing little Adrien :)

“Keep alert and do not lose focus. We may be living in peace, but that won’t stop some people. If you’re caught sleeping, you will be stripped of your Knightly title and your only duties will consist of cleaning the garderobes. Am I clear?”

Adrien nodded, his expression stoic, not betraying his disgust of the threat—no, promise.

“I understand, sir. I will remain vigilant throughout the night. No possible danger will escape my notice.”

Captain D’Argencourt smiled, a rarity for the strict older man.

“I’m happy to hear it. You’re my best swordsman, Sir Adrien, and my most disciplined. I have no doubts that you will perform your duty with the utmost dedication.”

“I shall not disappoint, sir.”

“Excellent. I’ll leave you to your patrol, then. Good luck.”

Adrien clicked his booted heel against the other, straightened his back, and gave his Captain a proper salute. Everything his did was proper and by-the-book ever since his training began. His original motivation for becoming a knight may never come to fruition, but that didn’t mean he would quit. He worked hard to be where he was now; he wouldn’t take any chances at screwing it all up.

Captain D’Argencourt nodded approvingly at the gesture. While many of his men became lazier the longer they were in training, Adrien grew to be more of the ideal soldier and eventual knight with every passing day. The young man had a variety of admirable traits but dedicated had to be at the top of the list. Every task he was assigned to him he completed with all his strength and skill. Lazy would be the last word to describe Sir Adrien Agreste, in Captain D’Argencourt’s opinion.

Which was a large reason why he recommended Adrien to be knighted only three months into his service as a common soldier. His unparalleled swordplay made up for the other half of the reason.

This was Adrien’s first night of guarding the Princess’s wing. It was the most important area to patrol, even more important than King Tom and Queen Sabine’s wing. Princess Marinette was the sole heir to the kingdom, if anything happened to her there wouldn’t be anyone in the family to rule after the King and Queen’s eventual deaths.

Captain D’Argencourt returned the salute before turning around and walking down the hallway the way he came, presumably to get a good night’s sleep, unlike Adrien.

The Princess’s life was essentially now in the hands of the man who was regarded as the most accomplished swordsman in the kingdom, but has only been a soldier for three months, and a knight for six.

Was she concerned, he wondered? Did she have faith that he could protect her should the worst occur?

He squared his shoulders and started his march up the hallway. He wouldn’t let her down no matter what. His ears strained for any suspicious sounds, his eyes darted around in search for the slightest hint of danger that may have escaped his superior’s notice.

He winced when the only noise he could pick up was the slight rattling of his plate armor that followed with each step he took. He would love to not wear it at all, but he wouldn’t want to put his safety at risk. With his luck, he’d show up on patrol wearing his lighter uniform that provided no amount of protection, and that would be the night he’d have to duel with an assassin.

He’d rather be prepared than not.

It was on his third rotation of the hallway that a woman approached. He had been standing in front of the Princess’s door when he saw her, dressed in the typical garb of the castle maids and holding a silver tray. Despite the more than likely innocent intentions, he narrowed his eyes and frowned.

“Halt. State your name and purpose,” he demanded. He hoped he sounded intimidating; he had been told that he had a softer and smoother voice than most men. It was something his comrades often teased him about, but whenever he tried to roughen his tone, he would only get more teasing from it.

The maid bowed her head, just enough to look at him beneath her lashes, and smiled. Adrien resisted slumping in disappointment. Guess his attempt failed like every other time.

“It is Lila, Sir Knight. May I have the pleasure of knowing yours?”

She was pretty, that much he could tell with one glance. Her coquettish simper accompanied with that sultry purr would be enough to tempt any unsuspecting knight. He could tell that she wanted to get more than just his name.

“State your purpose,” he repeated, ignoring her question. Getting involved with a castle maid was a headache he didn’t want to deal with, especially since such conduct could get him dishonorably discharged if they were caught by the wrong person. It wasn’t worth it.

Strangely, she didn’t seem put off by his dismissal of her flirtations. She blinked innocently, but her smirk hinted otherwise.

“I was sent to give the Princess her evening tea. Are you new, by any chance? I haven’t seen you before.”

Adrien refrained from sighing. He’d better answer her question, it was harmless enough and he didn’t want it getting back to D’Argencourt that he was being rude to the castle staff.

“Not exactly, I’ve been here for about nine months now,” he said before turning to rap his knuckles three times on the door.

“Your Highness? A Miss Lila is here with your evening tea,” he called.

Inwardly he told himself that this wasn’t unusual. If it was another knight in his shoes the same thing would’ve happened. Telling the Princess that there was a maid for her had to be a common occurrence.

Then why was his heart beating so fast? As a child he dreamed of this moment, and now that it was finally happening, he could scarcely believe it. He was talking to Princess Marinette. Sure, there was a door separating them, but that hardly mattered to him. He would take what he could get, since this would probably be the only kind of interactions they would ever have.

He almost smiled when he heard her reply to let the maid in. Almost, because he had to keep up the apathetic knight act in front of Lila.

But her voice…he could hardly believe that he was hearing her speak. It was soft, yet loud so she could hear him through the door, and something he wished to hear more of.

**_Focus, Adrien. You’re on duty, remember?_ **

Clearing his throat, he stepped to the side to allow Lila through. She gave him one last bat of her lashes before she walked inside.

He wished D’Argencourt had a lesson of what to do when a persistent maid flirts with you back in training.

Lila emerged a minute after, sans tray but kept that sinful curl of her lips when she peered up at him.

“You know, it is rude not to give your name when making introductions…” she said, briefly surprising Adrien. They made introductions? He thought he was behaving in protocol by asking her name and purpose, not following courtly etiquettes.

He didn’t want to do it. A part of him was reluctant to do so, for whatever reason. But what if she told D’Argencourt that he was being rude? That was grounds for being permanently assigned to outside patrol, where he wouldn’t speak to anyone outside his fellow soldiers and he would never be able to hear Princess Marinette’s voice again.

Forcing down his aversion, he indulged the maid.

“My name is Adrien,” he said, offering no other information. “Now, if I may, I must resume my patrol.”

“Adrien,” she murmured, testing the name and apparently satisfied with it. “I’ll be sure to remember you,  _Adrien_.”

He wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing, he thought as he watched her walk down the hallway and out of sight. Hopefully there was a rotation of maids that took turns bringing Princess Marinette her evening tea and it wasn’t just Lila. He wasn’t sure what else to say to her without her going to D’Argencourt to report his ‘rude’ behavior.

…

It was nearly midnight when he saw light spilling from beneath the Princess’s door. What was she doing up at this hour? He knew some people were night owls, but he also knew that she had an early rise ahead of her.

It wasn’t his business. If she wanted to stay up late, that was her problem. His job was to protect her from potential assassins, not a bad sleep schedule.

He twisted his lips in a pensive pout. Should he check on her? Maybe something was wrong.

He was supposed to continue along the connecting hallway before passing by her door again. D’Argencourt would surely have a few choice words with him should he find out he didn’t follow the patrol route as directed. But if something was wrong, then he  _should_  deviate from the route, right?

Before he could talk himself out of it, he marched to her door. He’d listen for a minute, determine if things were alright, and then he’d return to his normal patrol and D’Argencourt would never be the wiser.

He paused at the door, then pressed his ear against the wood. He couldn’t pick up anything, no footsteps, no voices, nothing. Perhaps she was having trouble sleeping and decided a good book would help her?

Having decided that nothing was amiss, he made to pull back.

That’s when he heard it.

A soft footstep. There was a brief pause, then he heard it again. Why was the Princess tip-toeing around her room? She had no reason to sneak around, this was her own home after all.

Then again, he heard rumors that the Princess and the court trouvère were having a secret affair. Maybe she was seeing him now? It would explain the muffled footsteps and why there was still light seeping from her door.

The thought of that made him sick to his stomach. Still, even if it was Luka in the room, he couldn’t hear any-

A bump. Then-

“Argh!”

Adrien’s jaw slackened. That was a male’s voice, but it was in a grunt of pain. Why would Luka be in pain if he was seeing the Princess?

He couldn’t ignore this now. His instincts were screaming for him to open the door. The Princess would likely be angry if nothing was wrong and he was overreacting by barging in her room, but he wasn’t taking any chances. He would rather face consequences for that rather than live with the guilt that it was his fault that she was hurt.

He slowly opened the door, just so that he wouldn’t startle her in case he was being paranoid. He didn’t want to throw open the door, sword brandished if there was no danger.

But when he saw the dark figure hovered over her slumped form at her desk, with a dagger in hand, he did exactly that.

“Halt!” he shouted. He didn’t even think to unsheathe his sword; the action came naturally without any sort of thinking required.

The hooded figure stopped, though Adrien had a feeling it was not because of the order, but because he was caught.

He didn’t want to think of what would’ve happened had he ignored his instincts to check on her and instead continued his patrol.

The figure narrowed his eyes. Adrien raised his sword, daring him to approach. Despite that this was the first real threat he ever faced off against, he couldn’t find it in himself to be scared. Instead, he was filled with courage and a strong sense of protection.

The almost-assassin charged, intending to take Adrien out before finishing the job with the Princess.

His mistake.

He raised the dagger, intending to strike, and Adrien prepared to dodge. As soon as the weapon was lifted in the air for the kill, Adrien sidestepped and swung his own sword, which was intercepted by the second dagger pulled out from the stranger’s boot.

“Another knife in your boot?” Adrien tsked before using his shoulder to push the man away from him. “Typical.”

The stranger growled and immediately the two were in a vicious dance consisted of daggers and a single sword. One misstep would mean death.

It didn’t escape Adrien’s notice that the Princess remained unmoving throughout the entire fight. Her head was resting against her arms, fast asleep and oblivious to the clashing of weapons. He would’ve been worried, but the steady rise and fall of her shoulders reassured him that she was alright, for now.

Adrien knew the fight was lasting too long. He should’ve won by now, but his opponent proved to be one of the most infuriating ones he ever had. Not only did he have to dodge quick swipes of his daggers, but he was also one of the fastest men Adrien had ever dealt with.

He wondered why no one was coming to his aid. Surely, they were loud enough to draw the attention of any other knights that were nearby? Maybe they fell asleep at their posts?

If that was the case, there would be hell to pay at the next sparring session.

Dodge, strike, sidestep, strike, block, block, strike, get blocked, repeat. It went on and on, until Adrien started to observe his opponent’s movements beginning to slow.

He carefully kept his grin in check as he blocked another strike. He was wearing him out, all Adrien had to do was be patient and he would have him.

True to his assumption, he only had to wait another few minutes until the window of opportunity opened. He raised his sword and thrust it in the man’s stomach, the cry of agony that followed inducing him to sigh in relief.

He removed the sword and re-sheathed it. He could clean the blood off the blade and scabbard later.

Adrien didn’t think of the fact he just murdered someone as he ran to the Princess. Right now, all he worried for was her and her safety.

“Your Highness?” he asked, lightly shaking her shoulder. “Princess?”

She didn’t move. Her ears didn’t even twitch as a signal that she heard him.

She may have been breathing, but that hardly made him feel better. Gently, he repositioned her, so his hand was cradling the back of her head. His eyes widened, momentarily startled by her beauty. This was the closest he had been to her ever since that first day she made her public appearance when they were children. He often wondered what she looked like up close like this, and though he would have preferred for it to happen under different circumstances, her appearance wasn’t any less stunning.

Long, thick black hair, dark eyelashes that brushed against the pale skin of her cheeks, and full lips parted in sleep. She was more beautiful than he remembered, but he could reflect on that later.

“Princess? Princess!”

Nothing. There wasn’t the slightest hint that she heard him.

He cast a look to the man who lay bleeding on the floor, his last breath having already left his lungs. There was the possibility that he knocked her out, but even so he should’ve been able to rouse her by now. The only other option was…

He growled. He knew something was off about that maid.

He returned the Princess to her original position on the desk. After making sure she wouldn’t slide off, he ran outside onto the balcony, not having to open the doors since the almost-assassin was kind enough to open them beforehand.

Looking down, Adrien’s earlier suspicions were confirmed. There, he saw two men stationed below, sitting down and fast asleep.

He carried his fury in his voice when he shouted for them to wake up. The men awakened at once, lifting their gazes, then promptly blanched at the sight of the incensed young knight on the Princess’s balcony, clenching the stone railing as if he was restraining himself from attacking them then and there.

“Secure the perimeter! No one goes in or out of this castle. There was an assassination attempt on the Princess, get the healer and Captain D’Argencourt. Am I clear?”

The men hurriedly nodded. Apparently, all he had to do was sound pissed off for the men not to tease him for his voice.

“And try not to fall asleep doing it,” he bit out before going back inside.

How often did they sleep on the job? He knew the kingdom was at peace, but still! He couldn’t wait to tell his Captain why the assassin was able to easily enter the Princess’s chambers. They’d probably be cleaning the garderobes for years as punishment.

Gently lifting the Princess in his arms, taking care not to jostle her around, he was able to lower her to her bed. Idly he wondered if he would get in trouble for touching her. Then again, she would have to be in bed for the healer to examine her, right? So, he could arguably say he did a good thing.

Besides, D’Argencourt would probably be more distracted by the assassination attempt to scold him for such a little thing in comparison.

He spent the time waiting for the healer or D’Argencourt to arrive by studying the Princess’s features, taking every detail into account to remember. He doubted he would ever get to see her again this close; tonight was just a fluke.

**_“Someday, when I’m bigger, I’m going to marry her.”_ **

Adrien knew it was a foolish vow, said by a silly child. He would never have a chance. And yet, actually seeing her face to face, made him yearn for it to happen more than ever.

He clenched his jaw and tore his eyes away. It was better to forget her and that stupid promise. Besides, he hardly knew her. How could he want to marry someone he barely knew?

Although, he could get to know her. He could see what makes her tick, what her interests and ideas and goals are…

No! It was a hopeless endeavor. Why was he torturing himself like this? He was better off chasing after one of the castle maids. But that didn’t appeal to him as much as the idea of spending time with the Princess.

His inner turmoil was interrupted by the sound of pounding feet and clanking armor. It wasn’t long after he saw Captain D’Argencourt, dressed in his own armor accompanied by five other soldiers.

They took one look at the body, then slowly raised their gazes to Adrien and the Princess.

“Adrien, did you-?” Captain D’Argencourt said, in awe and unable to finish his question. The soldiers began murmuring amongst themselves, looking between the body and the younger knight

Adrien reluctantly nodded. For the first time, he doubted his actions. Should he have found a way to spare the assassin instead? Was he supposed to use the bed sheet to tie him up or something?

 ** _Stop looking at me like that_** , he wanted to say. Anything to not have them look at him as if they were seeing an entirely new person.

At long last, his Captain smiled proudly.

“Well done, Sir Adrien.”

…

It was later determined that the Princess was indeed drugged by the castle maid, Lila. The plan was likely to have her knocked out, so she wouldn’t scream when the assassin—a man they were unable to identify—came to do the job.

If that was it, then why didn’t Lila just poison her instead? That would’ve been easier, in Adrien’s opinion. Alas, they couldn’t ask the maid that question. After she delivered the tea, she somehow vanished into the night, likely due to the sleeping guards.

Adrien wished to choke them, but he suspected the garderobes were doing a fine job of that already.

It wasn’t until three days after the incident that he was called for a meeting with the King and Queen. Although he knew he did a good thing and should be proud of his service to them—Captain D’Argencourt said so—he was still nervous. Maybe they really were mad about him putting their daughter to bed, or maybe it was because of the assassin’s blood staining the expensive carpet, or maybe-

“Their majesties King Tom and Queen Sabine will see you now, Sir Adrien Agreste,” a portly servant said upon exiting the study where the royals were waiting.

Adrien swallowed back his nerves, thanked him, then walked inside to face the music.

It turned out it was rather good music. For his heroic deed he was assigned one of the highest positions: Princess Marinette’s appointed knight. His job would be to follow her everywhere and keep an eye out for danger, protecting her with his life every step of the way. He’d be with her every day, except for one day a week he had off.

It was something his six-year-old self would’ve been ecstatic about. As for his present, 19-year old self?

Well, nobody could prove that he clicked his heels together once in the hallway.

However, he was aware he had to keep a level head. This wasn’t a rendezvous, it was a serious duty with no room for daydreams or romantic lines. There was no room for failure.

Although, maybe they could become friends?

It was with this thought that he arrived at the Princess’s private sitting room. He nodded to the guard stationed outside the door, effectively dismissing him so he could assume his new role. He returned the nod and walked off down the hallway, allowing Adrien to take his place.

It occurred to him that perhaps he should introduce himself to her. He never got the chance to when he rescued her. It would be the perfect opportunity to say who he was and inform her about his new position as her knight. It would be kind of awkward if he started following her around with her having no clue who he was.

With that in mind, and ignoring the music drifting through the door, he knocked twice.

No response.

Adrien gritted his teeth and placed a hand on the hilt of his sword. This better not be another assassination attempt.

Opening the door, he relaxed when he saw that there was no sort of danger. Princess Marinette was sitting on one of the couches, eyes closed with a hand to her heart. Luka, the court trouvère, was playing a soothing melody on his cittern.

The music came to an abrupt halt when he noticed Adrien in the room.

Marinette opened her eyes. When they found his, hers narrowed.

Adrien repressed the urge to gulp. Clearly, she wasn’t happy that he interrupted.

“Princess?” he tried, sounding more afraid than he would’ve liked. Who wanted a timid knight to protect them? “I’m-”

“My newly appointed knight. Am I correct?” she interrupted icily. Despite the tension in the room, Luka was grinning for some reason.

“Yes,” he replied, a bit taken aback. He heard that she was kind and usually didn’t speak to anyone like this.

Well, he probably deserved it since he rudely interrupted her music session.

The Princess sighed, then stood from her seat.

“May I have a word with you outside, Sir Knight?” she asked, although it sounded more of a demand than a request.

“Yes, of course, Your Highness,” he obliged. He made sure to move out of the way to open the door for her prior to walking out to the hallway himself.

She scowled and crossed her arms. Thankfully, she dropped her venomous glare. Too bad it was only to close her eyes and sigh in frustration.

“Look, I appreciate that you saved me. I do. Without you, I likely wouldn’t be here today. Thank you, Sir Knight.”

He smiled hopefully. “You’re welcome, Princess. And-”

“I’m not finished,” she stated, prompting him to close his mouth.

Suddenly he found himself assaulted again by her icy glare that seemed to drop in temperature every second she spent looking at him.

“But that doesn’t mean I require, or desire, your services in this way. I can take care of myself and have no need for a babysitter, especially one who barges in my  _private_ sitting room while I have a guest. But I know I cannot dismiss you, trying to do so will only serve in upsetting my parents. So, I’ll lay down a few ground rules instead.

“You will always stay outside the door, for I have no wish for your company. You can do your job just fine there. Also, you will maintain a distance of five paces behind me wherever I walk. I have no wishes to walk by your side, rescue or not. This should be obvious by now, but you will not say a word to me unless I address you first or if a desperate situation should arise. Finally, you  _will not_ interrupt Luka while he’s playing the cittern for me again. Do you understand, Sir Knight?”

Adrien could only nod after such a speech.

“Good, I’m happy we could come to this agreement,” she said. Sooner than he could blink she turned and slammed the door shut behind her.

Great. It was their first meeting and she already hated him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A garderobe is basically the medieval version of a toilet. Essentially, D'Argencourt was telling Adrien that if he slept on the job then he'd be scrubbing toilets


	6. The Duel (Part 1)

“Who does he think he is?!” Marinette fumed. She paced back and forth in her sitting room, her knight’s eyes following her angry movements from his place on the sofa. While she was entirely agitated, he was entirely relaxed in the soft cushions and opted to recline back further than what he already was.

“Careful, you’re going to wear a hole in the carpet,” Adrien warned amusedly.

She paused to glare at him and sigh in exasperation before continuing her pacing and bitter rambling.

“And he’s so conceited! Why, I’ve never met anyone so proud in my life, not even Chloé! Who does he think he is, to just waltz up to my parents and claim that he’s the better swordsman and that he could protect me better than you ever could? The audacity!”

“I agree, Princess. I mean, a soldier that just wants you to have the best protection and ensure that no harm will ever come to you? It’s an outrage.”

“How can you sit there and treat this as a joke?” she snapped, whirling around to pin her angry stare at him again. “If my parents actually humor his insipid challenge, then you won’t be able to be my knight anymore!”

“Not exactly,” he corrected, sinking further into the cushions. He’d been her appointed knight long enough to know that when she got truly mad about something, it could be awhile before she regained her cool, so he might as well get comfortable. “He’d have to beat me first. _Then_ , he would be your knight.”

“And you’re not worried he can? Not at all?”

“I’m offended you have so little faith in me, Princess.”

“Adrien,” she growled through gritted teeth. “Please, at least show a little concern.”

“Over what?” he asked, sitting up and levelling her with the slight frown. He was finally being serious, but as she strongly suspected, for the wrong reasons. “There’s plenty of men like him. They think that just because they’re a part of the King’s army they can beat anyone and everyone, only to wind up sitting on their asses with a sword pointed at their throat. I doubt this time will be any different.”

“But I’ve seen him, Adrien!” she protested, her annoyance gone and replaced with desperation. How could he not be worried about someone trying to take his job? “He’s good, _really_ good! What if he beats you?”

Adrien shrugged. “Then I’d better teach him how to play the harpsichord, so you’ll like him.”

He meant it as a joke. He only intended to tease her; he knew she didn’t like him just for his musical abilities. But when her face crumpled, and she flinched back as if he had slapped her, his playful smile vanished.

“Do you really think I’m that shallow?” she asked brokenly. She wasn’t crying but it was more than clear she was hurt.

Before he could apologize for his thoughtless remark, her eyes hardened.

“I know I was terrible to you at first and I apologized for it, multiple times! I said I was sorry, and I still am! I feel guilty for the way I treated you every day! And when you said you forgave me, and we could start over, I thought we were starting to become friends. But all this time you thought I started to like you simply for your musical talent? You don’t think my friendship’s real?”

“Marinette, that’s not-!” he tried to say, only to be stopped by her raised voice.

“No, don’t bother. I’m sorry for before, I truly am. I don’t know how else to say it. And I guess it’s obvious I’ll never have your forgiveness, given your lack of concern over Theo.”

“What?!”

“Why else would you not care?” she snapped. Unable to look at him in case the tears escaped her eyes, she turned away and crossed her arms together. She was the Princess and she would not let _anyone_ see her cry. “I bet you’ll be glad when Theo beats you, so you won’t have to be around me anymore.”

“Marinette, that’s not it at all, and you know that,” Adrien shot back, voice steely. “I was only kidding before, I know your friendship’s real and I’ve forgiven you a long time ago. What I can’t understand is, as my friend, why you have so little faith in me? What, you think just because some guy with a sword comes along and shows off a little bit that he can beat me in a duel?”

“Do you know what your problem is?” she asked, eyes dry and filled with newfound frustration. “You’re too cocky. You think just because you fended off an assassin once that you can beat anyone else that challenges you.”

“And do you know what _your_ problem is?” Adrien retorted as he stood. “You’re too oblivious and caught up in your own little world to notice anything else going on around you. Before I was your appointed knight, I beat every single one of D’Argencourt’s men. I challenged other captains and generals and I still won. I’ve been fighting with a sword since I was six, so excuse me if I think I have a solid chance of beating some conceited soldier that no one’s ever heard of until now because they thought to challenge me.”

Adrien was too wound up to notice her downcast eyes and her teeth biting into her lower lip.

“You’re so oblivious, I bet you didn’t even know we’re on the brink of war with Françoise Dupont!”

Marinette’s lips pressed into a tight line. She hadn’t known that, but there was absolutely no way that she was going to tell him that. But on the brink of war with Françoise Dupont? Why hadn’t her parents told her? Maybe she really was too caught up in her own little world…

“You know what?” she asked, scowling. “I hope Theo beats you, then I’ll never have to see you again!”

Adrien managed to harden his features, but barely. _That_ one hurt.

“If that’s the way you feel, then fine. Maybe I’ll go resign right now and save us all the trouble.”

“Go ahead,” she dared, not allowing herself to show that she wanted him to do the exact opposite. “See if I care!”

“Gladly!”

Not looking back, he marched out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him that made a shudder go down Marinette’s back.

What had she done?

…

“Oh, Tikki, it was the worst fight we ever had!” Marinette wailed, sitting in the chair of her vanity while her most trusted maid brushed her hair for the night. She was the only person excluded from the ‘no one can see the Princess cry’ rule.

“It was awful!”

“I’m sure it wasn’t that bad,” Tikki tried to soothe, but it was lost on the sobbing Princess.

“Yes, it was! He thinks I have no faith in him and he said I was oblivious and naïve and in my own world and then I said he was cocky and then we started arguing more and-”

“Shh, it’ll be alright, Marinette,” Tikki whispered, her hushed, calming tone quieting the Princess’s cries to sniffles.

“No, it won’t be!”

“And why not?”

“Because he resigned today!”

Tikki paused in her stroke of the brush. This was a new development, and one she could hardly believe. She could see how Marinette and Adrien cared for one another, so for him to go and do that threw her for a loop. “He what?”

“I said that I hope that Theo beats him, so I wouldn’t have to see him again,” she explained, her tone hollow while she tried to regain her breath. “But then Adrien said he’d resign and save us all the trouble! Then I told him to go ahead and do it, and then he left the room to do that! But I didn’t want him to, I swear I didn’t! And when I went to apologize, thinking he was outside the door and hoping he really didn’t go through with it, there was a guard I’ve never seen before! So he resigned and now I’ll never see him again and I’ll never get to apologize or give him-”

“Shh, Marinette, relax. Breathe.”

She took a few needed deep breaths. Meanwhile, Tikki gently shushed her and softly ran the brush through her hair.

“While I believe you, I’m afraid that isn’t what I heard happened at all,” the maid said, a secretive smile dancing on her lips.

Marinette sniffled, taking the time to brush away a few tears on her cheeks.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I’ve heard a rumor that Sir Adrien marched straight to your parents and demanded that he be allowed to duel with Theo. He seemed very dedicated to keeping his position.”

“Really?” Marinette gasped, scarcely allowing herself to believe it.

“Mhm. And, while there’s no way to prove it, I heard that two men got into a heated argument today. Apparently one of them wants to use manipulative means to pursue a lady while the other is determined to not let him do it. The names of the men escape me at the moment, but I thought you might like to hear about other castle gossip.”

Marinette was less concerned about the last tidbit, because that could’ve been about anyone and frankly it didn’t concern her. What did concern her was what Tikki first had to say.

“You mean Adrien is still my appointed knight? He didn’t resign?”

“Not that I’ve heard,” Tikki replied. “Everyone fights sometimes, Marinette. But if they really care about each other, then it won’t be permanent. I promise this isn’t as bad as you think it is. I’m sure if you talk to each other everything will be okay.”

Marinette took a deep breath to calm her nerves, trying to relax as her maid had earlier advised.  

“You really think so?”

“Definitely,” she said with conviction. With that last word, she placed the brush down on the vanity, leaving the Princess’s hair smooth to the touch and free of any tangles.

Marinette allowed herself to smile. Maybe it would be okay as Tikki said it would be.


	7. The Duel (part 2)

That morning Marinette woke up with a resolve to have a talk with Adrien. She would apologize, he would do the same, they’d forgive each other, and then they’d talk about the duel that he will be competing in. She was prepared to give him all kinds of tips, even though he probably knew all of them already and they were mostly based on what she’d seen other knights do, but it’s the thought that counts, right?

She quickly prepared herself for the day to see Adrien sooner. This stress wasn’t doing any good for her mind, and she doubted that he was benefiting from it either.

Of course, there was the chance that he was not bothered by it all, or he was still mad at her and wasn’t seeking any forgiveness or willing to give some. But they were friends, and whenever true friends fought it was never permanent. Friends always made up.

She hoped it would be the same case for herself and Adrien.

The request to speak with him after breakfast sitting on the tip of her tongue, she opened her door, only for the question to vanish from her mind and her mouth to drop.

Adrien wasn’t waiting outside her door like every morning. Instead, there were two guards she didn’t recognize staring down at her with cool, detached gazes.

“Are you going to breakfast now, Your Highness?” the one on the right asked, sounding so formal it shook her for a moment. She was used to friendliness and teasing in the mornings, not formality.

“If so, we will gladly escort you there, Your Highness,” the one on the left added in a tone that contrasted with his idea of ‘gladly’.

“Um, if I may,” she started nervously, before realizing herself and standing straighter. She was the Princess and she could ask these men anything she wanted without permission.

“Where is my appointed knight, Sir Adrien? He usually escorts me to breakfast.”

The two shared a look, their indifferent facades dropping to reveal an uneasiness that confused her. Tikki said last night that Adrien didn’t resign. She hoped he didn’t, at the very least she wouldn’t look like a fool by asking where he was.

“Sir Adrien wishes to have his privacy respected during the time leading up the duel,” the guard on the right finally replied, then immediately shrunk back a bit. “You knew about the duel, right?”

He turned towards his partner. “She knew, right? Or were we not supposed to tell her?”

Before the other guard could answer, Marinette cleared her throat, aiming a reprimanding look at each of them.

“As Princess, I have a right to know what goes on in this castle. As such, there will not be any secrets kept from me.”

The two guards lowered their heads, flinching and lowering them more as she continued speaking.

“However,” Marinette sighed, closing her eyes and taking a couple calming breaths, “I will respect Sir Adrien’s privacy and not pry into his affairs. Now, I’m feeling rather starved at the moment, and so I will take my leave of you both and go to breakfast. Good day, gentlemen.”

She made it down the hallway until she heard their panicked shouts for her to wait. She carefully kept her ensuing smirk in check as she was led to the dining hall.

* * *

 

Marinette was more fed up than stressed.

She hadn’t seen Adrien for three days. Three whole days! Three whole days of nothing but bumbling guards that made for poor conversationalists, no music from the harpsichord, and none of Adrien’s smiles.

She understood that he was mad, but purposefully shirking his duty as her knight for three days? It was ridiculous, as Lady Chloe would say. Utterly ridiculous!

 “All I want to do is apologize and he won’t even let me do _that_! He’s so…so…!”

“Spiteful?” Tikki suggested with another stroke of the brush through her hair.

“Yes! And he’s…he’s…!”

“Objectionable?”

“Detestable! Abominable! Despicable! Unsavory! And has a character deserving of my utter contempt!”

Tikki hummed as she put down the brush and picked up Marinette’s favorite piece of jewelry, a necklace with a sapphire as the centerpiece surrounded by diamonds, and gently secured it around her neck.

When she looked at the mirror, she frowned at the reflection that greeted her: a teary-eyed Princess with a wobbling lip and flushed cheeks.

“Why does he hate me?” Marinette whispered in a voice so low the maid almost didn’t hear it.

Tikki’s heart lurched in her chest. Not even when she was sobbing about the fight three days ago did she look as broken as she did now.

“I’m sure there’s a reason he’s avoiding you,” she said, hoping to dispel Marinette’s doubts.

Tikki knew that there was absolutely no way that Adrien hated Marinette. He had been nothing but friendly and warm to her since they were first introduced. Even when she was mean to him and always ordered him to leave the room he responded with cordiality and a respectful bow. It was simply foolish to believe that Adrien could ever hate Marinette.

“What reason is there besides hating me? It’s clear he wants nothing to do with me.”

“If that’s the case, then why is he participating in this duel in the first place?” Tikki asked.

Marinette shook her head. She honestly had no idea why. Avoiding her at all costs hinted at his aversion to her, but then again if he really felt that way, then why bother with the duel to keep his place as her appointed knight? It didn’t make sense.

This morning she tried one last tactic to get him to see her, or at least receive word from him. She left a small box outside his door: a gift along with her wishes for good luck. And what did she get in return?

Nothing, not even a thank you note.

“Well, we may not know why, but we had better be on our way,” Tikki said, cutting into Marinette’s inner turmoil of _maybe he didn’t like the gift and now he’s even more mad_ and _it was a cheap present anyway, literally anyone could’ve made it. He probably expected jewels or something equally expensive since I’m the Princess._

If the box wasn’t already gone, she would’ve run to his door and taken it back. Even if he did like the gift, he probably hated that it came from her, and now he was angrier, and it was all her fault.

Marinette stood, calmly smoothed her dress’s skirt, and carefully applied the diamond-and- ruby encrusted tiara to her head.

She may have shown her worries to Tikki, but now she had to put on her mask of grace and politeness. After all, a princess never shows her true feelings.

“Yes, I suppose we should be going. This duel is essentially being held for me, after all. It wouldn’t do to be late.”

* * *

The duel was held in the training grounds for the soldiers and knights. As such, it was mostly the soldiers and knights themselves who stood around eagerly awaiting the outcome. Meanwhile, in a small, wooden enclosure off to the side, the royal family sat in their makeshift thrones. Marinette’s throne was a bit smaller than her parents’, but that was fine with her.

While she was trying to find Adrien, her father leaned down close to her ear.

“This should be exciting,” he eagerly whispered.

Marinette didn’t think so. She was too worried of the outcome to possibly entertain the idea of being…well, entertained.

“Perhaps,” she replied, feeling safe with her neutral answer.

“But you know what would make it even _more_ exciting?” he went on, his mustache tickling her ear as he smiled. “The classic reward: a kiss from the princess!”

“Papa!” she admonished, rearing back and leveling him with a dismayed pout. He wouldn’t do that, right? True, she wouldn’t have minded at all if her kiss was promised to Adrien, but she wasn’t willing to risk giving it to Théo instead.

“Tom,” her mother cut in, giving him a stern eye. “Whoever wins will be Marinette’s appointed knight. I believe that’s a reward in itself, don’t you?”

Her father slouched back in his throne, the same put-out look on his face he adopted whenever his wife disagreed with one of his imaginative ideas. Sabine and Marinette shared amused grins, with Marinette noting to thank her later, before they each returned their attentions to the middle of the training yard, where Captain D’Argencourt was preparing to speak.

It wasn’t long after that the other men and women in the vicinity began to notice the silent and still Captain waiting in the center. The crowd quieted, and only when there was complete silence, did D’Argencourt talk.

“Their Majesties King Tomas and Queen Sabine joined by Her Royal Highness Princess Marinette,” he announced, then turned to the royal family. “We are honored that you could attend the duel this afternoon, fought between Sir Adrien Agreste and Théo Barbot, in which the winner will be proclaimed as the Princess’s appointed knight. With your blessing, I will oversee this duel and determine the winner.”

Although both the King and Queen smiled approvingly, it was Tom who spoke and declared he had their blessing.

Marinette bit her lip, the only outward sign of her agitation.

The Captain nodded. “Now, may the participants join me at the center!”

Marinette’s eyes fixated on her knight, who emerged from a small gathering of lower-ranked soldiers. The uniform he usually wore in her presence was absent. In its place was a tunic displaying her kingdom’s crest and underneath it a layer of chain mail for protection.

He may have kept a confident pace, but the way he kept fiddling with his glove, caused Marinette to worry and to be honest, be a little angry. His position was on the line and he couldn’t even be bothered to make sure his outfit was on properly?

Théo was dressed similarly, though he didn’t fuss with his glove like Adrien had. He grinned the entire time he strutted to where D’Argencourt was standing and continued to do so when Adrien stood before him. The latter met his smug expression with a disgusted glare.

The introduction of the duel was rather boring in Marinette’s opinion. All D’Argencourt did was introduce the two men to the spectators, say their ranks and accomplishments (it wasn’t lost on Marinette on how many more Adrien had compared to Théo), and finally to describe the prize to be won: the position of the Princess’s appointed knight, willing to defend her with his life wherever she goes.

Then, at last, D’Argencourt raised his right hand, and quickly brought it down.

Marinette’s breath hitched as Théo raised his sword and tried to attack Adrien, but luckily her knight had fast reflexes and parried the blow.

The two men were still once more, waiting for the other to make their move.

She saw Adrien’s lips move. She couldn’t hear what he said, but whatever it was caused Théo to scowl and lunge into another attack, which Adrien yet again blocked perfectly.

It continued somewhat like that. They’d be standing there, moving back and forth, or slowly circling the other. But every time it was always Théo who tried to attack, and every time Adrien merely parried it and waited for his next action.

Marinette was sitting on the edge of her seat, quite literally if the soreness in her butt was anything to go by.

“Please be careful,” she prayed in a whisper, even though she could tell Adrien was doing just that by not attacking and taking time to study his opponent’s patterns.

The crowd was growing restless. They wanted action and a winner, and they expected to have it since Adrien, the man whose swordplay they heard so much about and seen, was fighting. They didn’t understand why he wasn’t doing anything other than blocking Théo’s attacks.

Was he scared, they wondered? Was he intimidated? Maybe it would be good if Théo won, they reasoned. They didn’t want a knight who was afraid of a lowly soldier to be guarding their Princess.

Then something changed. Whenever Théo’s attacks came to a lull, Adrien would tap his sword against Théo’s to provoke him.

Marinette frowned as she noticed the trick worked every time. What did Adrien have to accomplish by taunting him?

_Come on, I know you’re good! Stop wasting time and end this already!_

As the minutes dragged on in this manner, Marinette started to feel just as restless as the spectators. By now she wasn’t nervous at all for Adrien. Now all she wanted to do was wring his neck for dragging this on more than need be.

Just when she was about to rise from her throne and go down there herself and order Adrien to do something, it happened.

Adrien had gained a bit of distance from Théo. What everyone perceived to be a move of cowardice, turned out to be one of strategy.

Théo ran to Adrien, sword raised and aimed for his chest, intending to knock him down, be crowned the winner, and make a fool of the man who everyone admired so greatly.

If Marinette blinked, she would’ve missed it.

Adrien somehow crossed his sword with Théo’s, then thrusted forward with a force strong enough for Théo’s sword to go flying out of his hand and for the man to land on his back. Adrien didn’t wait for Théo to regain his bearings and raced forward to point his sword at his throat, indicating the end of the duel.

Everyone was silent, disbelieving of all that happened. All that time spent of Théo continuously trying to best Adrien, provoking him to action, only to lose by the only attack Adrien had thrown.

The silence was broken by D’Argencourt’s loud proclamation of Sir Adrien Agreste being the victor. He was smiling particularly proudly, Marinette noticed, but she thought there were none who could be prouder than her.

She had trouble keeping her smile at a respectable width as Adrien walked in front of the thrones and sank to one knee. At once her father congratulated him, then remarked amusedly that he was glad he won, otherwise he would’ve had to say the same declaration he did when Adrien was first assigned to the position.

Adrien cracked a smile at that, but it dipped into a frown when he locked eyes with Marinette.

Her own smile dimmed as well. Oh yes, the argument. For a moment she had forgotten they had fought at all.

_Is he still mad? He won the duel, so he can’t be that mad, right?_

To Marinette it felt like an eternity to get Adrien alone when it was probably no more than fifteen minutes. He took the time to shake hands with Théo, who appeared less than thrilled with the duel’s outcome, then moved on to his comrades where he was faced with jovial laughs and hearty claps on the back. Finally, he spoke with his Captain, who said something that Marinette couldn’t hear, but it nonetheless made Adrien smile.

And just when she thought she would have her chance, he was ushered off somewhere and her parents had deemed it time to return to their duties Who knew it could be so hard to apologize to someone?

But she had a plan. She excused herself from her parents’ company, told a nearby guard to have Adrien immediately brought to her sitting room to resume his work, then waited.

And waited.

And waited.

She was about to call for a maid to summon him when she heard a knock at the door.

“Enter,” she called out of habit, and a tad higher-pitched than normal.

The door opened, and although she previously had a flawless plan to apologize, it went out the window when she saw him, out of his dueling outfit and back into his pristine uniform.

This wasn’t the tall, proud knight she saw in the training grounds this afternoon. This man was looking at the floor, his left hand was fiddling with the gloved fingers of his right, and judging by his grimace he probably wished to be anywhere else but there, faced by her blue-eyed stare.

Marinette took a deep breath and smoothed out her dress. She could do this; just apologize and everything would go back to the way things were.

“I’m sorry!”

They blinked, not expecting their voices to be echoed.

“No, _I’m_ sorry!”

Hmm. This was proving to be more difficult than either of them thought.

“No…just let…you don’t have to-!”

They huffed and turned away from each other.  

“You first,” Adrien said. “You’re the Princess, after all.”

Marinette quickly took the opportunity and launched into her apology. She didn’t want to dawdle by taking another deep breath and smoothing her skirt; she’d probably lose her nerve if she wasted any more time.

“Adrien, I’m so sorry for what happened. I’m sorry that I didn’t have faith in you…well, I did, but I should’ve had more of it, considering all that you’ve done for me. And I’ve never wanted you to resign either, and I never hoped that Théo would beat you. I was angry and didn’t mean any of those things. I’m sorry.”

She glanced up at him, eyes shining with tears and guilt and just the smallest glimmer of hope.

“Can you forgive me?”

The longer Adrien stood there, lips parted and eyes wide, the more Marinette’s hopes deflated. Thinking back to her apology, she could understand why. It was in no ways befitting for a Princess; it was entirely inarticulate. He probably wanted this grand speech like any other competent noble could give. She internally cursed her inability when it came to words.

“I-”

Marinette eyes shot back up to Adrien’s, his attempt to speak distracting her from her inner turmoil.

“There’s nothing to forgive, Princess,” he said, appearing guiltier than when he first walked in to Marinette’s growing confusion.

“I don’t blame you for wishing that Théo would beat me, even if you say you didn’t mean it. You were right; I was cocky and arrogant to assume that I would win. No victory is guaranteed, no matter how good you may think you are.”

He smiled sheepishly. “I was taught that at nine, when I foolishly challenged a man ten years my senior to a fight. Everyone around me was constantly saying how amazing I was. They even called me a prodigy, and I let it go to my head. I’ll spare you the details of my humiliation from that day, but in short, he beat me, and I vowed to always remember his words of humility. I guess I’ve forgotten them at some point during my time as your knight.”

His smile dropped. “And I’m sorry for saying you’re oblivious. If you didn’t know about the tensions with Françoise Dupont, it wouldn’t have been your fault. The only reason I know is because I report back to the King and Queen at the end of every day and they thought I should be aware of any possible threats to the kingdom, and especially towards you. There may not even be a war in the end, so I wouldn’t blame them if they didn’t tell you.”

Perhaps that is why when Marinette had inquired about such a war to her parents, they brushed off her concerns and assured her that nothing was going on.

“I’m sorry for all that I said. I’m sorry for how I acted. And I’m sorry that I failed to be a knight worthy of your company and friendship. Can you forgive me?”

For a moment Marinette was inclined to not forgive him—his apology made hers sound pathetic.

But the longer she stared into those sorrowful yet hopeful green eyes…well, she knew that already had forgiven him. It wasn’t her fault that she was utterly helpless against those eyes and had been for quite some time.

“Yes, I forgive you. Although I wish you would extend the same courtesy to me,” she teased.

He grinned wryly. “I already told you that you have nothing to apologize for. But if it would so please you, then yes, I forgive you.”

“Don’t forgive me just because it would please me,” she retorted. “I want your forgiveness of your own accord. And I have plenty to apologize for!”

His grin faltered as his eyes hardened. “I was completely in the wrong, you didn’t do anything! I’m the only one in this room who should be apologizing.”

“No, I should be apologizing too!”

“But you were right! I was cocky and arrogant!”

“But you were right that I didn’t have faith in you when I should’ve!”

“But-!”

Marinette held up her hands. She didn’t want another argument to break out between them.

“How about this?” she proposed in a calmer tone. “We both forgive each other on the count of three?”

Adrien frowned, making her believe that he would disagree, but to her satisfaction he eventually nodded.

“Okay! One, two, three-”

“I forgive you,” they said as one.

Marinette chanced a tentative smile at her knight, and it widened when she saw his own.

* * *

 

She almost didn’t want to ask the question in fear of the consequences it could bring. They were finally sitting together and talking and laughing again; she didn’t want to ruin it. But the question kept nagging at her and she suspected it wouldn’t stop until it was answered.

“Adrien?”

“Yes?” he asked, taking note of her crestfallen expression with concern.

“Before the duel,” she continued, unable to look him in the eyes, “why did you avoid me? Were you truly that angry with me?”

An arrow tipped with shame pierced his heart. He had an excuse for doing what he did, but it did nothing to alleviate the feeling.

“I wasn’t avoiding you, Marinette,” he said. “I was training. I thought you’d appreciate me taking all the time I could to prepare for the duel.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I could see how you considered that I was avoiding you, though. I’m sorry.”

She shook her head. “No, don’t be sorry. I’m glad you did that.” Her cheeks delved into a soft pink. “You must have really wanted to win, huh?”

_“Your time with her is coming to an end, boy. Once I win this, she’ll be all mine. I’ve always wondered what it would be like to deflower a princess…”_

“Yes.”

Marinette chose not to ask why his ensuing answer sounded like a growl, or why his jaw hardened or why he was suddenly clenching his fist.

Adrien exhaled, trying to regain his cool. It didn’t matter anymore. Théo was out of the picture and therefore no longer a threat. Which was good for the soldier in all honesty, since Adrien was specifically ordered to eliminate all threats to the Princess by whatever means necessary.

“But I think my training might not have been needed after all,” he suddenly spoke, prompting Marinette to gaze up at him in curiosity.

She looked down to see him slowly peeling off his glove. What lay on his wrist caused her heart to nearly stop.

He raised his arm with a grin. “For how could I lose with my Marinette lucky charm?”

He kept it. He kept her gift and more importantly, he wore it. Abruptly, she thought back to before the duel started, when she saw him fiddling with his glove. She thought he was uncaring of his appearance and not prepared but in reality, he was probably making sure the bracelet was secure around his wrist.

She made it back when she was a child. It was a cheap thing, wooden beads held together by a red string. She had heard that making those kinds of bracelets was a popular hobby for the common girls her age, and so she desired to join the fun as well.

As the years passed, she wore it less and less, content to keep it in her jewelry box as a good luck charm. On the day before the duel, she wanted Adrien to have something other than a note of good luck. Instead she wanted him to have a token of sorts, to remind him whenever he looked at it that she wished for his victory.

Now, seeing him wearing it and bearing that grin that always sent her heart pounding, she was glad she didn’t take it back.

“Yes, Adrien. Your training had nothing to do with you winning today; it was all the work of my lucky bracelet. You should be thankful that I thought you worthy of it.”

He chuckled. “I thank you from the bottom of my heart, Princess, that you deemed me worthy of all the divine power which this bracelet holds. I have no idea how I would’ve won without it.”

Marinette laughed, sinking deeper into the couch cushion. For the first time in four days, she felt truly relaxed.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ever wondered how Marinette and Adrien started to get along? This will be the last chapter dedicated to the past, everything from here until the end will take place in the present. Thank you guys so much for your kudos and comments, they give me life ^.^

She could feel him. She could always feel his stare whenever it was pinned on her back. His purpose was to protect her and make her feel safe, yet all she ever felt in his presence was annoyance, coupled with a tension in her shoulders that she could never seem to break.

He didn’t try talking to her anymore. At last all her refusals for a conversation worked; he merely nodded at whatever she said or just listened in silence. It was what she wanted, so why did she feel guilty at the outcome?

He used to have a light in his eyes, a hope that they could perhaps become more than just Princess and loyal knight—friends, perhaps? Now it was dulled with resignation and she didn’t see any signs of it ever igniting again. His smiles vanished not long before that.

Well, it was a good thing she killed his hopes. She never even asked for him to be her appointed knight in the first place; her parents did that all on their own without asking for her permission.

She couldn’t stand having a glorified babysitter following her at every turn, from taste-testing everything she ate and drank while under his watch, to stopping her from rounding the corners in the hallways so he could check if there was an assassin awaiting her, to always intruding upon her time with Luka even when she _explicitly_ tells him to leave them be.

Just thinking about it is enough to get her angry all over again. It might have affected the tone of her dismissal, but who knows? Maybe he’d see how serious she was and leave her alone.

…Evidently not, as she can hear his footsteps as soon as she turns back around and opens the door leading to the gardens.

And that! He never follows her orders! She’s the Princess, and while she didn’t want to rule with an iron fist, she didn’t think respect was too much to ask for.

Annoyance, frustration, and irritation combined prompted her to spin around and face him again.

Her face must’ve been quite a sight with the way his eyes widened.

“Are you that witless? I told you that you’re dismissed. I have no need of you, regardless of what my parents think. The gardens are perfectly safe, as is the rest of the castle. Return inside and do whatever it is knights do all day, for I am fine and will _be_ fine and prefer to have this excursion unaccompanied.”

With a firm nod, certain that was enough to get her point across, she turned around and strode forward outside.

She stopped when she heard his subsequent footsteps _not_ going in the opposite direction.

“Stop following me!” she snapped, fists clenched at her sides. What would it take for him to leave her alone?!

Her knight blinked in surprise. She didn’t blame him; that was the first time she’d ever let her temper get the better of her.

And then he raised his eyes heavenward, leading her to clench her teeth. He dare have the audacity to roll his eyes at her?!

But then with a bow of his head, he turned and left.

It took a minute for it to register.

He left, just like that. No arguments, no refusals, none. He rolled his eyes and left her alone.

Her lips curled into a smile. All it took to get rid of him was to yell? In that case, she should’ve done that weeks ago!

Finally satisfied, and after breathing out a sigh of relief, she walked toward her prized blue roses. Okay, they didn’t win any prizes, but she considered them to be the best flower in the gardens and highly deserving of every single prize out there.

She had begun inspecting the roses when she saw it. A drop of water fell and landed on the petals of the one she was holding. She looked up and internally cursed upon seeing the darkened sky without a ray of sunshine in sight.

She stood, disappointed that her time had to be cut short, but knowing she had to leave quickly. It wouldn’t do at all for the Princess to return inside the castle soaking wet.

Suddenly she heard a click, and she noticed a shadow fall above her.

Turning around, she gasped just as the rain was starting to steadily fall.

Her knight, staring slightly above her and wearing a blank expression, was holding a wide umbrella above her head. He didn’t seem to care that he was getting wet while she remained perfectly dry.

He hadn’t rolled his eyes at her earlier. He checked the sky and correctly guessed it was going to rain. The only reason he left her was to fetch an umbrella. And what did he get for his thoughtfulness? Her screaming in his face to leave her alone.

She frowned, guilt gnawing at her insides. All the things he did that she regarded as nuisances, were only done for her safety in mind. She didn’t have to treat him so badly for it. At any point he could’ve quit and walked out of the castle, yet he stayed at her side and endured her harsh words and temper. He simply wanted her to be safe.

She may not have asked for him to be assigned to her, then again, she didn’t think he exactly volunteered for the role. They were both stuck in this situation and her constant hostility toward him probably didn’t help him at all.

His eyes darted down to meet hers. They widened when he saw her gazing at him. No wonder, it was probably the first time she looked at him without a scowl.

The sound of thunder in the distance hardly bothered her. She was too focused on his eyes; were they always such a vivid green? How had she never noticed? It was hard to believe that after looking into his eyes a hundred times as she yelled at him, she was so blind.

Unfortunately, her view was interrupted by a wave of darkness enveloping her. She heard his panicked shout, and seconds later the umbrella was lifted, revealing her troubled knight.

“A thousand apologies, Your Highness! I didn’t mean to, I swear I didn’t! Are you alright? Are you hurt? I can take you inside and get the doctor or-”

Goodness, he really did care about her safety didn’t he?

His rambling gradually stopped when he heard her laughing. She couldn’t help it! Besides, it felt much better than being angry all the time.

Soon enough, her knight cracked a smile of his own, and it wasn’t long after that he joined in on her mirth. The pair laughed as the rain poured down around them and lightning lit up the sky. Anyone else would’ve ran inside for cover, anyone _sane_ that is. It was nice to be insane once in a while.

She noticed that her poor knight was soaked to the bone, whereas she didn’t have a drop of water on her skin. His hair was matted to his forehead, the normally sunshine-blond strands now considerably darkened, but she doubted it hardly mattered to him. He merely swiped them out of the way before peering down at her with twinkling eyes and a delighted grin.

The hope she used to see in those eyes now burned brighter than ever.

And this time, she was determined not to extinguish it again.

“Let’s head inside,” she said at last, going around him to walk back to the door. To his credit, the umbrella was faithfully kept above her head the entire time.

“And if you could leave me for a few minutes to change your uniform?” She turned back with a teasing grin. “I can’t have my knight catching a cold and dying on me.”

“As if a little rain will be my end,” he playfully scoffed. “I’m made of sterner stuff, Your Highness."

She simply grinned and kept walking ahead. She would apologize to him later, after he changed into a warm uniform and after she was reassured that he wouldn’t get sick.


	9. Chapter 9

“Do you think he forgot, Tikki?”

The maid smiled as she placed the finishing touches on the Princess’s hair. It was styled into an elaborate bun of curled hair and strategically decorated with small pearls. Simple, yet elegant, just the way Marinette preferred it to be.

“I imagine not. It’s the talk of the entire castle, after all.”

“But we spent the entire day together,” Marinette refuted, frowning and crossing her arms together. “From breakfast until it was time to prepare for the ball, he didn’t say anything! I tried hinting at it, asking him stuff like if he was excited for tonight and if he was ready to celebrate, but nothing! I honestly think he forgot.”

“I highly doubt he did,” Tikki calmly replied, now moving on to jewelry. An exquisite ruby necklace caught her eye, the gem perfectly matched with the Princess’s dress. She gently picked it from the vanity and placed it around Marinette’s neck.

“Well, it’s not impossible,” Marinette argued. “With it being so close to the holidays, I wouldn’t blame him if he forgot.”

She paused in consideration. “Do you think I’m being selfish?”

“Of course not,” Tikki assured, squeezing the Princess’s shoulders in comfort. “And perhaps he is waiting for the right moment. You never know what’s going on in his head.”

“Probably a mixture of swords and harpsichords,” Marinette suggested with a sardonic grin.

Tikki hummed, not agreeing with her, but not exactly disagreeing. After all, she didn’t think Adrien would appreciate it if she told Marinette of what she thought ran through Adrien’s mind all day, and possibly all night. That would inevitably lead to a conversation he wasn’t ready to have.

“Well, whatever the case may be, I believe it’s time to make your appearance!”

“And entertain the ambassador from Françoise Dupont,” Marinette groaned.

The ambassador arrived yesterday at the request of her parents, to ensure that peace would be maintained between the two kingdoms and that war would never be considered an option. She saw him when he was led into the throne room and could instantly see how slimy of a man he was.

While decently dressed and well-mannered for an ambassador, she didn’t miss the cunning smirk he would always have when speaking with her parents, nor the shifty eyes as he peered around the castle. She had no idea what it meant, but she knew it couldn’t be good.

And now her parents requested her to keep the (clearly suspicious) man company at her birthday ball, should he seek her out.

Perfect, just the way she imagined spending her birthday.

“You’ll be fine,” Tikki reassured, smiling. “Besides, the ambassador already promised that no war would happen. So, don’t be nervous!”

She wasn’t exactly nervous about that…until now. What if she accidentally made her displeasure known and he got offended and then went back to his kingdom and then they declared war and-

“Marinette, I already have an idea of what you’re thinking,” Tikki said. “Breathe. You’ll be fine, don’t worry. The King and Queen wouldn’t have asked you to do this if they didn’t think you were capable.”

She sighed, then stood from her chair and forced herself to square her shoulders and chin up. She was a Princess, and this was what princesses had to do sometimes in the name of their kingdom. She wouldn’t let her people down just because of her own discomfort.

“Thanks, Tikki. Wish me luck!”

* * *

For the most part, the ball was going smoothly. All the guests had wished her a happy birthday as soon as she arrived, the food was delicious, and the music was lovely. Sure, she had to deal with the ambassador’s lecherous leers and boring monologues about himself and his kingdom, but it was nothing she couldn’t handle. All she had to do was maintain a respectful distance and she’d be fine.

Besides, she had Adrien. Sort of. Unfortunately, even at her birthday celebration he still had to be on duty. Currently he was standing beside her parents’ thrones, his expression stony and not betraying any thoughts.

The only moments when his mask slipped were when they happened to lock eyes with each other. Sometimes he’d grin, or if he was feeling particularly daring, he’d go for a sly wink. Marinette responded by either smirking in return or scrunching her nose, nothing too damning for a proper, certainly not childish, princess.

“Would you do me the honor of dancing with me, Princess?”

Ugh.

Marinette forced herself to turn away from the comforting sight of Adrien. The ambassador had that suggestive curve of his lips again, and his eyes burned with the same feeling. She wanted nothing more than to slap him and report his conduct to her parents, but that would possibly be grounds for a declaration of war from Françoise Dupont.

Smile and nod as her governess used to say. Just smile and nod.

And she did just that.

The ambassador took her hand—she resisted the urge to pull away from the clamminess—and led her to the ballroom floor. They got into the standard waltz position; him pulling her a bit too close while she tried not to let her disgust show, and with the first beat of the song they were off.

“So, you turn 19 today, is that right?” he asked, smirking.

“Yes,” she confirmed as he led them into a twirl. It was hard keeping her attention on his gray eyes when she wished to stare into a pair of green ones instead.

“And may I say that your dancing is as lovely as your beauty?”

It was with great effort that she didn’t scowl. Her parents owed her big time for this.

“I thank you, sir.”

And on it went in this manner, with the ambassador trying to flatter her while she answered as short as was respectfully possible. Her heart fluttered when she happened to see Adrien in the middle of a twirl across the ballroom, but he didn’t smile at her.  

Nonetheless, just the mere sight of him was a comfort and a reassurance that she wasn’t alone.

Not long after, the song had finally reached its end. Marinette thanked whatever deity there was that she was finally able to get away from the ambassador. But after they bowed/curtsied to each other and he led her away, he stunned her by asking if they could talk outside on the balcony.

She didn’t want to. Her skin was already crawling at the prospect of being alone with this man.

But she smiled and nodded, because that’s what princesses do to prevent wars.

She tried catching one last glimpse of Adrien, but the ambassador tugged her through the glass doors before she could.

* * *

“So, what is it that you wished to speak to me about, sir?” Marinette asked.

They were facing each other in front of the stone railing of the balcony. He was close, but thankfully kept a respectful distance back. Nevertheless, Marinette didn’t drop her guard.

“Nothing you need to worry about,” he said and grinned, causing a shiver to run down her spine. “I just wanted to make my sentiments known in the privacy that a balcony in the night can provide.”

Sentiments? She clasped her hands a little tighter, the only sign of her increasing unease.

“Oh?”

“Yes. You have a lovely kingdom, Princess.” He paused to look up at the moon. “I am honored to have been sent here in the name of peace.”

Marinette’s eyebrows lifted in shock. Had she misunderstood this man all along?

“I…thank you, sir. I appreciate that you think so.”

“But,” he sighed, a bit too dramatically to be considered sincere. He slowly turned his head to face her again, the ghost of a smirk on his face. “Would it really be all bad if there was a war?”

What?!

“Of course, it would be!” she exclaimed, utterly baffled. What kind of ambassador wanted a war? What kind of _person_ wanted a war? He literally said a few seconds ago that he was honored to have been sent in the name of peace! What kind of game was he playing?

“Think about it, Princess,” he said, smiling widely and a tad bit creepy. “We would take over your kingdom and you wouldn’t have to be a princess anymore! You could do whatever you want, be with whoever you want…doesn’t that sound perfect?”

It did, to be honest. That was all she ever wanted throughout her whole life. However, the end wouldn’t justify the means in that case. She wasn’t willing to risk her entire kingdom over a little freedom. Then again, it wasn’t even a guarantee that she would be granted freedom. For all she knew, if there was a war and her kingdom lost, she could be taken prisoner and forced to live in a dungeon for the rest of her life.

Either that or…be executed.

She swallowed, a shudder racing down her spine.

“No. It does not, sir. All I desire is peace for all.”

He sighed and looked back to the moon.

“I must say I’m disappointed, Princess. I thought we would share the same vision.”

“Well, I’m afraid to say that we don’t, sir,” she replied, not feeling very afraid at all. “Didn’t you explicitly say that you were sent here in the name of peace? Why would you want a war? It’s a bit ironic, considering your job.”

He chuckled. “It was just an idle musing, nothing for you to get upset over. You’re not upset, are you? I would hate it if you were. People who are angry often lose their control and say things that end up offending others. But you’re more careful than that, yes?”

Marinette bit her lip, not missing the underlying warning in his words.

“Yes, I am careful, sir.”

“That’s good to hear, especially since I’m practically King Vauquelin’s right hand. You wouldn’t believe the influence I have. One word from me could possibly spur him to action…or inaction. What a position I have, hmm? And to think if there was a war and we won…why, I believe he would let me have anything I want.”

This suggestive look was nothing compared to the other ones he gave her that night. Marinette’s feet itched to run away, yet her hand twitched to slap him, and her mouth nearly opened to either beg for peace or yell at him for his comments and leers.

“I…I suppose you would, sir.”

She didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t risk offending him, not at this crucial moment. She hated that she felt this way; a princess shouldn’t be threatened by someone of a lower rank! She was above this and shouldn’t be dealing with such horrid treatment.

But the fate of her kingdom was on the line.

He stepped closer. She wished she could step back.

“However, I might be convinced to give a good report back to the King. For a price.”

Marinette’s blood ran cold.

“A price, sir?” She was inwardly impressed that her voice never faltered or stuttered.

“Yes,” he simply said and leaned closer. “I think we could settle this very easily, Princess. If you would-”

“Your Highness!”

Marinette nearly slumped with relief. She knew that voice, and when she turned to confirm it, she was beaming. Her knight in shining uniform was here!

Adrien didn’t look the least bit embarrassed that he interrupted. His eyebrows were drawn down and his mouth was pressed into a tight line, signs that she knew hinted at his budding anger. His stare was pinned to the ambassador who wisely backed away.

When he turned to her, his expression softened a bit.

“Your Highness, there has been a threat detected within the castle walls. I’ve been ordered to escort you to a safe place,” he said, and with it, Marinette’s blood chilled all over again.

A threat? She already lived through one assassination attempt, she didn’t want to chance not surviving another.

“Thank you, Sir Knight,” she said, remembering her audience. She couldn’t show familiarity with Adrien around this stranger.

She looked back at the ambassador and nodded once. “Excuse me, sir.”

He didn’t appear too thrilled at the idea of her leaving or worried that there was currently a threat in the castle, but Marinette took Adrien’s arm anyway and allowed him to lead her back inside the ballroom.

Upon seeing all the guests still having a joyous time dancing and drinking, all while her parents calmly watched from their thrones, Marinette wondered why no one was running to find safety. Did they not care? Or did they not know?

She strongly considered the second option. It made the most sense, as her parents likely wouldn’t want to start a panic. Plus, the threat could already have been quietly detained. Her parents might have been merely doing this as an act of overprotection.

Whatever the case was, she silently walked with Adrien in the ballroom, who didn’t deign her with a single word or look the entire time. Once they reached the hallways, his steps hastened and soon enough she found herself being practically dragged to her private sitting room.

Marinette could hear her heart pounding in her ears as Adrien pulled her inside and locked the door behind them.

“Adrien?”

He didn’t answer. He guided her to the sofa, then gently pushed down on her shoulders, indicating for her to sit. She did so without question, bringing out a small smile from her previously stoic knight.

She watched in fascination as Adrien took off his gloves, then brought out a tinderbox. He removed the contents—a fire steel, flint, and a small stick tipped with sulfur—then proceeded with getting to work on lighting a candle on the table.

He struck the fire steel on the flint, the metallic yet earthy sound echoing in the silent room. Sparks flew, igniting the sulfur, which he used to light the candle. He transferred that flame to light the other two candles in the candelabra, thus bringing some extra light in the room that up until now had only the moonlight to rely upon.

After slipping on his gloves again, he set the tinderbox on the table and then moved to one of the windows, which he quickly covered with the heavy drapes. He did the same for the next one, and the third, and the fourth.

There was just enough light left in the room for her to see his back.

“Adrien, what’s going on?” she demanded at last. “What’s the threat?”

He turned to her, the dancing flames of the candles providing the light needed to see his smirk.

“There is no threat.”

…What?

“What do you mean ‘there is no threat’?” she snapped, her temper sparking. He had her worried for nothing?! “Then why did you say there was?”

He walked toward her, slow and languidly and with that stupid grin that stretched wider upon seeing her crossed arms and the twist of her lips.

“Because I could tell you wanted to get out of there.” He scowled. “I couldn’t hear what he said, but I know it made you uncomfortable. So, I lied and said there was a threat. I knew that would be enough to get you away from him for the rest of the night, no questions asked.”

Her anger evaporated and was instantly replaced with warmth. He had noticed that she was uneasy around the ambassador, something no one else probably cared enough to catch. He made sure to keep an eye on her when they left the ballroom and intervened just in time to take her away from him. He lied about a threat in the castle, knowing that if he was caught, he’d surely face severe consequences. Yet he risked it all for her.

To think that she once hated this man. Thank goodness she finally gave him the chance he deserved.

“Adrien Agreste, you are wonderful,” she said softy, hoping he could see the gratitude behind her smile. “Thank you.”

His skin flushed the tiniest bit and he rubbed the back of his neck, weakly chuckling and looking down at the floor.

“You’re most welcome, Princess. It’s my duty to keep you safe, you know?”

Marinette’s smile fell a bit. Yes, they were friends and cared about each other, but at the end of the day it was his sense of duty that pushed him to protect her. Nothing more, nothing less.

“Yes, of course.”

Adrien frowned, noting how she had dimmed and how it wasn’t due to the lack of sufficient light in the room. What did he do wrong? He thought she appreciated him bringing her here, away from the ambassador. Was she displeased that he had lied to her about the threat? He had heard her grumble more than once of how she detested liars.

He cleared his throat, all the nerves from this week returning to him in full, stomach-churning force.

“Actually, that wasn’t the only reason I brought you here.”

Marinette cutely lowered her brows. “It’s not?”

He took a deep breath, hoping to calm himself, yet it only caused him to feel more afraid.

“No.”

He felt nervous when he thought of the initial idea, during the planning stages on how to execute it, the day leading up to the hours of this night, and now that the moment was finally here, he wanted to turn tail and flee. But he had already started the opening to this, there was no turning back now.

He reached into his pocket, and with Marinette following his movements, he removed his hand only to have something clutched in his fist. He walked around the table then sat himself beside her, all the while causing Marinette’s curiosity to burn brighter.

He held out his hand, silently requesting permission for her own. She wordlessly took it, despite not understanding what he was planning. Immediately after, his clenched hand hovered over hers, and gathering the hint, she turned her palm over.

Adrien tried to ignore his heart’s rapid pounding in his ears. Really, why was he so nervous? It was a good thing he did…although she might not think so. What if she hated it? What if she laughed and scorned him? What if she thought he was utterly ridiculous?

No, this was Marinette. The sweet girl he had come to love. He had more faith in her than that.

He dropped the present into her waiting hand, smiling warmly when her eyes widened.

“Happy birthday, Marinette.”

Marinette’s face lit up into a beaming smile before she even glanced at his gift. He remembered! He didn’t forget about her birthday! Tikki was right! She didn’t desire any material gift from him at all; just him acknowledging her birthday was more than enough of a present.

Still, she wondered what he thoughtfully decided to give her.

Looking down, she gasped at what lied on her palm, then held it up to give it the appreciation it deserved.

It was a bracelet, much like the one she had given Adrien as a token of good luck before his duel with Theo. The dark yellow and blue wooden beads were held together by a red string. The centerpiece was a sitting bird, in contrast to the green flower that was on Adrien’s bracelet. It was a simple gift, yet she considered it more valuable than any jewel in the world.

Adrien peeled off his glove, revealing his own bracelet.

“I carry your lucky charm wherever I go,” he said softly, reverently, as one would speak to a lover.

Marinette blushed at the thought. 

“I thought it was my turn to make one for you.” He lowered his gaze. “I understand if it’s not a suitable gift. It’s not diamonds, or sapphires, or rubies, or anything befitting your title. I now realize the insult of such a cheap gift and-”

Marinette put a finger to his lips, having heard enough. His insecure thoughts came to a screeching halt by the little contact she initiated. His breath hitched, his eyes darting down to her slender finger, resisting the urge to purse his lips and kiss it.

Her eyes were hard as they bore into his, a look of intensity he hadn’t seen since the days she despised him. At least this time they lacked the hatred she once held for him.

“Adrien, no gift from you could ever be an insult to me. I don’t care if it doesn’t have diamonds or sapphires or rubies. You could’ve given me a rock and I would still treasure it.”

She removed her finger, allowing his mouth to partially hang open.

“This is the sweetest, most thoughtful present I’ve ever received. Honestly, I thought you had forgotten it was my birthday,” she said with a wry quirk of her lips. “I’m just happy you remembered.”

Adrien grinned. “Of course, I remembered. I’d be a fool to forget, especially since it’s been the talk of the entire castle for the past week.” His grin turned sly. “And don’t think I didn’t catch all those hints you were giving me today. _Are you excited about the ball tonight? It’s going to be so fun! I can’t wait to celebrate, are you ready too?_ ”

Marinette blushed hotly at that and turned away while crossing her arms together. She ignored his subsequent snickering.

“Well it’s your fault for not saying anything all day!”

“I was waiting for the right moment!” he argued with a laugh.

She huffed and reluctantly faced him again. His teasing may have bruised her pride a bit, but it wasn’t anything she couldn’t handle. Besides, she didn’t want to spend her birthday getting mad at Adrien.

“Still,” she said, sighing.

Adrien’s laughter slowly came to a halt, getting the hint that she was serious.

“Thank you. For the present, for getting me away from the ambassador, for protecting me, for being my friend…just…thank you, Adrien. For everything.”

For a moment he was rendered speechless. Her wide, sparkling eyes filled with affection and gratitude, her sincere smile, not to mention what she said…

He didn’t think it was possible to fall any deeper than he already had done. And yet with just one look and a few sweet words, her beauty illuminated by the candlelight, he knew he was utterly doomed.

“There’s no need to thank me, but you’re welcome, nonetheless,” he murmured. Before he could lose his nerve, he took her hand and placed a chaste kiss on her knuckles.

Marinette hoped he couldn’t hear her heart threatening to leap out of her chest. He had _never_ kissed her hand before. She had endured it many times from countless gentlemen, but she had never experienced it from Adrien.

And just when she thought her birthday couldn’t get any better.

When Adrien looked up from her hand, his eyes held a mischievous gleam to them.

“So, would you like your other present?”

Marinette blinked. Her other present?

“My other present?”

He nodded, and with a smirk took her hand and guided her to stand. He wordlessly led her to the harpsichord, then sat down and gently tugged her to sit next to him on the bench.

“This is for you,” he explained, his grin shifting to a shy smile. It was hardly noticeable due to the lack of light, but Marinette could see a hint of a blush on his cheeks.

And then, he set his hands over the keys and played.

He wrote a song for her, she realized as she listened to the unfamiliar melody. He wrote a song just for her. Luka had written a few for her, as was partly his job as the court trouvère, that had her smiling and just a bit embarrassed in the good way. Thus, a song written for her wasn’t anything particularly new.

But those had all been performed in public. He had never sat her down in a candlelit room and softly played them for her ears only. Not like Adrien.

Not like Adrien at all…

Her eyes slowly closed as she let the soothing song wash over her, and soon enough she felt her head leaning against his arm. She felt him briefly stiffen, most likely having been surprised by her boldness, but he relaxed again and continued to play.

Best. Birthday. Ever.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's where things start to pick up ;)

The ambassador must have been more displeased about being separated from her than Marinette initially thought. Or he was lying about desiring peace the entire time he stayed at her kingdom, as she suspected.

For it was only three weeks after he departed for his own kingdom that her parents received the official declaration of war.

And just like that, the peace was shattered.

There were considerably fewer male peasants, as most of them were drafted into the infantries. There were also not as many guards around the castle. Most of the ones remaining were those who made it their life’s mission to serve the Royal Family and had grown too old to fight.

The number of young, qualified men in the castle eventually dwindled to just Adrien and a small group of men still in training.

Marinette didn’t like war. Aside from her people getting killed for no reason other than a greedy ambition for her land, the entire atmosphere around her had suddenly turned so tense. People hardly smiled, even the maids who had so eagerly gossiped a few weeks ago now cleaned in silence or with hushed, frightened whispers exchanged.

Whenever she dined with her parents and she inquired about the war, she never received a direct answer. All she got was a sentiment of not to worry and that things would be fine.

She might have believed them if their smiles reached their eyes.

Luckily, Adrien remained unchanged, except for one thing. If she thought he was overprotective before the war, it was nothing compared to how he acted now.

He wiped all the silverware and teacups with a clean handkerchief before she held them to her lips, in case they were dusted with poison. He taste-tested absolutely everything she ate or drank before she consumed it. He stopped and interrogated everyone who spoke with her, including maids who have been serving her since she was a little girl.

He checked every spot in every room before she entered it for intruders, not even sparing the rugs in his search. She was never more than an arm’s reach away from him, although _that_ she didn’t mind so much. He had ordered for two guards to be stationed outside her door every night, and ten outside below her room. Then he had one guard positioned somewhere out of sight of the others, to make sure they didn’t fall asleep on the job. And if the lookout fell asleep, then it would be the _other_ lookout’s job to wake him up and reprimand him.

Adrien spared no expense at making sure she was safe, yet still free to walk around her own home. It was a lot better than being forced to sit in her sitting room all day with Adrien watching her like a hawk.

Other than being extremely overprotective to nearly the point of madness, he was the same as before. Well, either that or he maintained a happy front to keep _her_ happy. Nonetheless, whenever they were together, she could forget that there was a raging war going on outside her castle walls.

However, one morning, she noticed he was quieter than usual.

“What’s wrong?” she had asked him.

“Nothing. Don’t worry about it,” he replied, giving her half a smile.

She wished people would stop telling her ‘not to worry’ whenever she asked a question. But at least she knew that there was definitely something bothering him.

“Was there a threat last night?” she asked. Maybe if she guessed she could get the true answer out of him.

“No. Why?” He narrowed his eyes. “Did you see something? Hear something? If you want, I can start guarding you at night.”

“But if you’re guarding me in the daytime _and_ the nighttime, when will you sleep?”

He shrugged. “All I need is about five hours at the most. I can protect you during all the other hours of the day.”

“Five hours?! Adrien, you can’t go around only getting five hours of sleep a night! You’d be exhausted.”

“I’d be fine.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” she hissed. “You’re not guarding me at night. Do I make myself clear, Sir Knight?”

Adrien bristled. It had been awhile since she called him that without teasing or in a public situation. It had been even longer since she addressed him with that tone. She was giving him a direct order.

He wouldn’t admit it, but she was right. He’d be of no use to her if he collapsed from exhaustion in the middle of fighting an assassin.

“Yes, Your Highness.”

They didn’t talk much after that. She tried one more time getting him to talk about what was bothering him, but like the last time, he told her it really was nothing to worry about.

Maybe he was just in a bad mood for some reason. Did guarding her all the time lead to it? Was he sick of her presence?

She paused in her sewing, her hand moving to a hidden pocket of her gown’s skirt. Her fingers quickly found the beads of his bracelet, rubbing them to remind herself that he did care, he wasn’t sick of her, and maybe this really was nothing to worry about.

She just wished she could believe that.

* * *

Luka was ready to clobber that stupid knight.

What sane, rational person would demand to hear a song in the middle of the night in one of the training rooms for the soldiers?! Adrien was more than capable of playing his own music. As such, there is no excuse why he would send a guard to wake him up with the demand to dress and meet in the first training room.

He would’ve refused, had not the guard threatened him with bodily harm if he didn’t go, courtesy of Sir Adrien Agreste, of course.

_I bet he’s not even there. Probably sending me on some wild goose chase, thinking it’s a joke._

Luka scowled. He’d have his revenge.

Finally, he entered the training room, sighing as he was finally out of the harsh winter winds. It wasn’t as warm inside as his room, but it wasn’t cold enough to induce a shiver. If this was all a joke, at least the bastard provided him with a fire in the small fireplace.

Luka almost turned around and walked out, after soaking up the warmth, when he noticed a figure standing on the other side of the room. As his eyes adjusted, he was able to make out Adrien’s imposing form, sword at his side and another in his hand.

“So, what’s this all about? You woke me up, so you’d have music to practice to?” Luka sneered. “Some of us like to sleep at normal hours, you know.”

“Shut up,” Adrien barked, stunning the trouvère into silence. During all those times arguing with each other, he’d never heard the knight speak so harshly.

Adrien walked to him at a brisk pace, purpose lining his every step, and for a second Luka was afraid. Was the knight really going to kill him? Did he finally snap and decide to eliminate his rival once and for all?

Adrien stopped in front of him, eyes hard and mouth set in a tight line. Wordlessly he took Luka’s cittern, placed it on the floor, and held out the sword in his hand.

Luka stared, not understanding what to make of this at all.

“Come on, take it,” Adrien snapped.

Before he could think, his hand reached out and grabbed the hilt, unable to ignore the command.

“I’m going to train you how to use a sword, starting tonight. We will be continuing these lessons every night until the end of the week. This is not up for discussion. Now get to the middle of the room so we can begin.”

Luka blinked. He’d never held a sword in his life, he never had a reason to. He was safe from the war with his position in court. Why was the knight so adamant on training him?

“I don’t think you understand,” Luka began slowly, only faltering when Adrien’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not a fighting man, I’m a musician. I’m not going to war.”

“And I don’t want you to,” Adrien replied impatiently. “Now get in the center so we can start. We only have eight hours until sunrise, and I’d like to get a couple hours of sleep before meeting with the Princess.”

“Why?!” Luka demanded, temper sparking. “What is the meaning of all this? I told you I’m not a fighting man!”

“Well by the end of the week you’ll be one,” Adrien growled. “Now get. In. The center.”

“Why should I? I have no reason to use a sword.”

“You will.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I mean,” Adrien hissed, “that I won’t be here for much longer and I need you to take my place.”

All the air left Luka’s lungs. It felt like he was punched in the stomach.

“…what do you-?”

Adrien crossed his arms and looked away.

“I was informed this morning by the King that at the end of the week, I will be sent with the rest of the solders in training to the Ninth Battalion. And loathe as I am to admit, you’re close to her and she trusts you. I need you to protect her in my place.”

Luka’s mouth dropped. His mind drew a blank, unable to process all that had been thrown at him in the past five minutes.

Adrien going to war…training him…protecting Marinette in his place…

“But-but why me?” Luka sputtered. “There’ll be plenty of guards here while you’re gone!”

Adrien scoffed. “The majority of those guards who ‘pledged to serve and protect the Royal Family with their lives’ are useless. Why do you think I have _two_ watchmen set up to make sure they don’t fall asleep every night?”

Luka didn’t answer. He didn’t even know about guards routinely falling asleep nor of two watchmen to make sure they didn’t. He could understand why Adrien wouldn’t want to depend on them while he was gone.

“They’re the reason why I became her appointed knight in the first place,” Adrien continued bitterly. “They fell asleep on the job, allowing the assassin to get to her room without even having to _try_ being sneaky. If I wasn’t there, she’d be dead right now.”

He turned to the musician again. For the first time since meeting him here, his expression wasn’t twisted with anger or annoyance. He was…determined. Somber and grave, yet his eyes sparked with a fire that Luka couldn’t ignore.

“You said you’re not a fighting man. But I know that if you were able, you’d fight and protect her without hesitation, because you love her too.”

Luka blanched, before a blush lit his cheeks.

For his part, Adrien appeared unaffected by what he said or Luka’s reaction to it.

“I can’t leave her unprotected. She needs a reliable guard. Can I trust you?”

Luka gulped. It was still hard to grasp what was happening, but one thing was abundantly clear. Marinette will be without a suitable protector at the end of the week. Luka may not have ever picked up a sword in his life, but Adrien was right. He’d never hesitate to protect Marinette, regardless of his fighting experience. He’d always be by her side and would surely never fall asleep on the job.

He nodded once.

Adrien smiled.

“Good. Now get in the center.”


End file.
